Raindrops
by weirdcoffeeholic
Summary: He was a man worthy of lifetime imprisonment, a rebel on the loose, with his future and past ruthlessly stolen from him. He was nobody left with nothing, until he came across a woman who would undoubtedly make everything right again. Ryoma x Sakuno AU.
1. PROLOGUE: To Each Their Own Lives

**RAINDROPS**

A _Prince of Tennis_ Fanfic

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_. (How I wish I _did_.)

**Author's Note**: This is my very first attempt at writing a _Prince of Tennis_ story – no, scratch that – a fanfic. Reviewers please go easy on me. I'm just a newbie. I hope you guys like it. :)

**Story Summary**: He was a man worthy of lifetime imprisonment — a rebel on the loose, with his future along with his past ruthlessly taken from him. He was nobody left with nothing, until he comes across a woman who would undoubtedly make everything right again. [Ryo x Saku Completely AU and everyone is totally OC.

**EPILOGUE**

_To Each Their Own Lives_

Her eyes were burning, her fingers stiff, and her head heavy. She hadn't had a wink of sleep since the past week and she felt like she was on the verge of throwing up on her laptop screen. The sight of it made her sick, especially when she was running on caffeine and a couple of breadsticks that she had almost half a day ago.

But, what the heck, she needed this promotion like how a normal person would need air to breathe. The rent was due in two weeks, the bills were starting to pile up, the car needed tuning up _again_, and her credit cards were maxed out —

_Stop it_, a tired voice ringed in her throbbing head. She ran a shaky hand through her long, brown hair. _Just concentrate. This is due tomorrow. Just two more paragraphs to go and you can get that sleep and that damn promotion you need…_

She took in air in a vain attempt to fill her head with more words to type and stared at the seemingly derisive cursor blinking on her word processor screen, but to no effect. It was writer's block, and it had caught her at such a bad time that she was blinking back tears of frustration.

_That's good, just cry it out. It takes out the sleepiness_, she told herself. But the tears didn't come.

Out of habit, her eyes darted towards her bedside table, to the digital clock blinking green against the darkness of the room. Her heart sank a little more. 3_:58HRS_. Just a couple more hours and she'd be off to work.

_Scratch that sleep, then_, she thought, completely annoyed. She hasn't been taking note of the time, too busy with one article after another.

She let out a soft, defeated sigh and began rereading her work.

* * *

_HEIR, MISSING WITHOUT A TRACE_

_By: Sakuno Ryuuzaki_

_Nanjirou Echizen (age 57), CEO of a world-renowned tennis company based in Japan, has recently ordered an all-out, world-wide search for his son, Ryoma Echizen (age 24), who was reported missing one month prior._

_The young heir was confirmed to be last seen at the Echizen's Reunion Party in Tokyo, Japan before mysteriously disappearing after the said occasion. No witnesses have come up, although his black Civic Sedan was seen along the bank of a nearby creek about 10 miles away from the 101 freeway. LAPD has taken in the vehicle for a complete and thorough investigation._

"_I and this whole family will not rest until we find or find out what has happened to our only heir," Mr. Echizen stated during a press conference held in Osaka yesterday. "We don't care how much or how long it takes," he added._

_The last person the "Prince" was said to be with was his close cousin Nanako Meino (age 32), who has been staying with his family for the past years..._

* * *

Sakuno bit the eraser of her pencil, a habit she couldn't quite get over ever since second grade. _Damn, I need his picture_. She was beyond irritated. _He's the heir to a world-famous company for God's sake, and people like him like to be the center of attention. What kind of rich and famous, young guy would avoid a camera? _she added as an afterthought while mentally cursing the Internet for not having any source on whoever this guy was. 

I'll just have to ask Tomoka to look up any picture of him, Sakuno thought hopelessly, typing rapidly on her worn-out keyboard. The sound of her fingers hitting the keys hit a nerve and a vein started twitching on her forehead. Her brown eyes suddenly lit up with newfound determination.

_Fine_, she thought. _Whatever this is, I have to finish this, or else I have to kiss the Editor-in-Chief spot goodbye_.

* * *

"Give me your purse, _now_." 

The woman was trembling, frightened. He could sense it even in the blinding darkness of the early morning. Soft cries spilled out from her lips as he drove the sharp edge of a rusty pocket knife closer to her neck. The cold rain stung their faces as they stood, unseen, in a closed, abandoned alleyway.

"There's no use in calling for help," he whispered dangerously in a deep, low voice, taking a few steps nearer his victim. "I don't want to hurt you. But if you don't comply with me, things aren't going to get pretty."

She suppressed another sob. "P-Please," she begged; her voice was cracking. "This is the o-only money I have. M-my son's in the hospital—"

"I don't give a damn," the man cut her off, clearly exasperated. He took another step closer so that his face hovered mere centimeters from hers. He smirked, but she wouldn't have seen that. "Do you want to see your son again?" he asked her.

She started crying again, clutching her purse as if it was life-support. In this case, it was. "Y-yes, please—"

"Then give me your purse so I can let you go in peace." He grabbed the small, leather bag and tried to pry it from her fingers, careful not to let the knife slip away from the hollow of her neck. But she wouldn't budge.

"P-please—"

"Shit," he cursed as he heard the quiet, incoming siren of police on patrol duty. His senses heightened, so did his adrenalin.

_I don't have any choice_, his thought was stark-blank, blinded by his sudden urge to flee. _I need this more than she does._

He gave one last look on the terrified woman against the brick wall before landing a right hook on her jaw, instantly knocking her out. He watched with nonchalant eyes as her unconscious body slumped towards the ground, her purse flying out of her grip and into a small puddle. He grabbed it without hesitation.

_She's not dead_, he was trying to convince himself. He suddenly felt like he was the victim now. It happened every time he did this.

Slipping the knife carefully into his pocket, he sprinted back into the unlit street. His face and hands felt numb. His mind was on the brink of panic, trying to block out the graveness of what he had just done.

The siren got louder as his legs beneath him pumped faster, the soles of his sneakers hitting the wet pavement painfully. His lungs felt like they were breathing in water.

He rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight.

* * *

**Author's Note**: So there. That was kind of short. But I put a lot of effort into it so I hope you guys like it. Coming up: _Chapter One – Trapped_. 


	2. CHAPTER ONE: Trapped

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: The first chapter's up! I hope you guys are enjoying this. :) There's a bit of RyoSaku fluff at the end of this one. Well, if you can call 'that' fluff. Most of this chapter's just talking. Kind of a long chapter. And it's still completely AU. Thanks for the great reviews. :D

* * *

CHAPTER ONE 

_Trapped_

"What do you mean 'You couldn't find a picture'?" Saori Shiba raised an eyebrow at the young columnist in front of her cluttered desk, as if refusing to believe it. "In case you don't know, you could've _Google_d that, Sakuno," she added with a shard of tired frustration. There were dark, half-circles under her light brown eyes and her short brown hair was in messy clumps on her head.

Sakuno let out an equally tired smile. She twiddled her fingers uncomfortably in front of her. "I'm sorry, Miss Shiba," she apologized, noticing the hint of slight anger in her boss' tone. "I was up all night looking for a decent one, but all I got were of him with his back to the camera, his hand covering his face—obviously, he's doesn't like pictures very much—"

"That doesn't matter, Sakuno," Saori shot back, standing up from her seat. She rested her palms on her desk and surveyed her office as if debating something in her mind. Letting out a sigh, she then gazed at Sakuno with pure and genuine concern. "I know you want this position, Miss Ryuuzaki. And frankly, I don't see a problem with that since you're the best writer I've got."

Beaming a little, Sakuno tried to look humbled. "Thank you, Miss Shiba." But she didn't like where this conversation was going.

"But if you don't show me a little more determination, I might consider giving this newspaper and all its hard work to someone else."

Sakuno's stomach dropped a couple of notches. A lump was forming in her throat. _No_, she thought helplessly, gripping the hems of her fleece jacket for any support. _I can't lose this. I'm this close_—

"But I don't think we'd like that, would we?" she asked, serious.

Something inside her lit up, sending her hopes flying again. "No, Miss Shiba," she replied courteously.

The older woman grinned. "I like your spirit, Miss Ryuuzaki," she said, sitting down behind her desk. There was an authoritarian ring to her voice now. It made Sakuno shiver a little. "That's why I'm giving you another chance."

Sakuno's eyes widened with surprise as she clasped her hands together in a prayer position. "Thank you, Miss Shiba," she said cheerfully, jumping up and down like a little girl being praised for a crayon drawing. "I swear you won't regret this," she added, standing up and smiling proudly. "I'll get on with looking for that picture right away."

Miss Shiba chuckled softly. "Actually, there's no need," she said.

"What?"

"I already asked Tomoka Osakada to fill you in," she replied calmly. "That missing-heir story is old, and I want you to work on a fresh story."

Face brightening with enthusiasm, Sakuno swallowed. "And what story is that?" she asked with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

"I hope you've heard of the mugging incidents downtown," Saori asked Sakuno as if testing if her knowledge of recent events was editor-in-chief material. She stood up again and walked towards Sakuno, putting an arm around her shoulders.

It ringed a bell. "Yeah, I've heard of it," she replied without uncertainty. It was a crucial mistake to show that now. "I think everyone has," she said.

Saori beamed. "Good," she said, pleased. "I want you to get the scoop on everything regarding that bastard. Interview victims if possible or witnesses if there are any."

Surprised, Sakuno gave a soft gasp. She shivered again. "M-me?" she asked, her brows knitted across her forehead. "Why, me?" she repeated, unsure.

"Because this is a hand-in-hand case with the Police, that's why," she replied sternly. "You do know that Takashi Kawamura works for the cops, and I believe you know him."

Sakuno was amazed that the editor knew this much. _Yeah, Taka, I remember him._ "Yeah, we went to the same high school together," she confirmed, lacing her fingers together.

"Well, then," she said in a tone that indicated that their conversation was closed. "It's settled; Leave the missing-heir story to Tomo, she can handle that. You'll start working on this one. Got it?" she asked, though she knew that Sakuno couldn't afford to refuse.

The younger woman spread her lips into a smile. "Yes, ma'am," she replied. "I'll get started on it right away." She gave Saori one last look before pacing towards the door.

"Oh, and Sakuno," she called just as she was about to disappear into the busy cubicle-rooms.

Sakuno turned around. "Yes?"

"I'm counting on you. You've got three days."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Tomoka was her usually, lively self that morning, Sakuno had mentally noted. She was buzzing around, bossing her subordinates as if there was no tomorrow. Her high, feminine voice was reverberating across the room and out into the open hallways. A few people had veins throbbing on their foreheads already, and it was just barely noon. The real nitty-gritty stuff hasn't even begun yet. 

"Hey, Kachiro! What the hell are you _doing_?" she yelled at the man working in number 54. "I told you, the 'in' papers go in this shelf while the 'out' ones go here! You're doing it all wrong!"

Sakuno spared a couple of seconds to look away from her computer screen towards the red hair of Tomoka's protruding on top of a cubicle wall. There was an abrupt burst of paper in the hair.

"That's it, I quit!" Kachiro yelled, causing much distraction and amusement to his fellow workers. "I can't take this anymore!" he yelled again as he stomped outside his stall, carrying a cardboard box apparently containing all his important belongings. He had planned this beforehand.

Tomoka looked outraged as she pointed a threatening finger at the man leaving the office. "And where do you think you're going?" she demanded, following Kachiro. "Don't think that you can come running back here if you can't find another decent job!"

"Don't worry, I won't!" he yelled back. There were snickers of laughter quietly spreading across the room. A small woman at the back was holding up a banner that said '_Go, Kachiro! I'm next in line!_'

Shaking her head, Sakuno focused her eyes and mind back to her work. Her brows furrowed against the light radiating from her screen, her eyes quickly skimming the page she had come across in their very own newspaper's website.

_One of our regular contributors was a victim of this guy_, she concluded, scribbling the name on a Post-It. _Good. I've got second-hand information_—

"Hey, Sakuno!" a familiar voice broke her train of thoughts, making her jerk a little.

Sakuno rolled her eyes. "Damn it, Tomoka, I was on a roll here!" she said with slight agitation.

She grinned. "I heard you've been assigned to a new issue," Tomoka said, looking eager.

"Yeah, I was," Sakuno said while sticking her pencil behind her ear. She then began tying her hair in a messy ponytail.

"So..." Tomoka began, obviously interested. "How's it going? Got any leads?" she asked, edging a little closer to Sakuno's monitor.

"No. I've just started working on it today," she replied defensively. "I'm not the LAPD here," she added, eyeing her desk littered with paperwork. "Hey, Tomoka?"

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you knew this girl," she asked Tomoka, turning the flat-screen monitor slightly to the left so that it faced the other woman.

Taking a step closer, Tomoka put a finger to her chin thoughtfully. She scowled a little. "Ann Tachibana... Hmm..." she said, straightening up. "Yeah, I know her. She was a contributor to the Sports department."

Sakuno frowned. "What do you mean 'was'?" she asked.

Shrugging, Tomoka replied, "She just filed her resignation papers this morning," she said casually. "I think her son died last night or something. Why'd you ask?"

"Apparently, she was the mugger's most recent victim," Sakuno said, adjusting the monitor towards her again. "Do you know how I can get a hold of her? Maybe just do an interview?" she asked the head copyreader.

Tomoka's brows crumpled a little more. "I don't think that'll be easy," she answered slowly, as though uncertain. "She just moved back to Japan with her husband. Apparently, she couldn't stand living here anymore since it reminded her of her son."

_Shit_, Sakuno thought, chewing the eraser end of her pencil. _This guy's an asshole. _She cursed again.

A soft, female voice on the P.A. spoke. "Miss Tomoka Osakada, please proceed to the third floor. The Editor-in-Chief would like to have a word with you." The announced repeated the message twice before the room fell silent again. There was a quiet murmur arousing from the cubicles. A few heads poked out to get a better view of Tomoka.

"Tch." Giving Sakuno a last look, Tomoka gracefully exited the large office room, her pigtails swinging behind her head.

Sakuno's lips pressed into a small, hidden smile. _You still haven't changed a bit, Tomoka._

* * *

It was around nine o'clock in the evening when rain began pouring again. The streets were still busy with passersby and small, lit-up restaurants like it always was in drier nights. Sakuno Ryuuzaki stepped out of the taxi and went up the concrete steps of the number 2376 precinct. 

The building looked classic, like it was taken out of a Hollywood movie, Sakuno thought with a hint of awe under the rain. The yellow glow from the lamp post reflecting on its façade. She wondered why she didn't notice this building before.

Sakuno wrapped her leather jacket tighter around her body. It was her first time to enter a precinct and the weather wasn't helping at all with easing the tension she felt. _Taka, please be here,_ she prayed as she disappeared into the wooden double doors.

The air was considerably warmer when she was finally inside. It felt good and smellef of coffee and freshly baked donuts. _I guess Hollywood got that detail right_, Sakuno told herself, watching the navy blue-clad men walking past her giving her a critical look. A couple of female officers were staring at her, chattering away behind their hands.

Turning pink, Sakuno placed her freezing hands in her pockets and lowered her head a little.

"BURNING!"

She whirled around to find Takashi Kawamura's face with a mischievous grip on his lips. "Oh, good, Takashi, you're here," she said, suspiciously eyeing the black police baton in his hand. "How're you?"

"I AM GREAT!" he yelled on top of his voice. Several officers rolled their eyes. A criminal-looking man in handcuffs scoffed. Takashi raised his fist into the air as Sakuno cowered.

She forced a smile. "Takashi—"

"I'll take that," a man behind the energetic cop said. His voice was without a doubt very familiar. He smoothly plucked the baton out of Takashi's hand, making his oomph ebb away considerably.

Sakuno recognized him immediately. "Detective Inui!"

Takashi chuckled, clearly embarrassed, scratching the back of his head. The tense line on his face disappeared completely. "I'm sorry about that," he apologized, blushing. "What's it that you came all the way here for Miss Ryuuzaki?"

The detective pushed his black, square glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I believe you came for an inside look on the mugger," he assumed, gazing at Sakuno inquiringly.

Nodding, Sakuno replied, "Yeah, I did." She was impressed. _That's so like Sadaharu Inui to know everything beforehand_. "I need first-class information on everything you guys here know. It's kind of an order," she explained.

Takashi scratched his head again before looking away. "To tell you honestly," he began, "we only know this so-called mugger as much you guys at the press do," he said truthfully.

"What?" Sakuno crossed her eyebrows.

Detective Inui cleared out his throat and took out his ever-so-famous notebook. He flipped to a certain page. "Actually, this is the only worthy information we have," he said as he gestured Sakuno to take out a pen and notebook as well.

She complied with a nod, pausing the tip of her pen on a page. "Right, I'm ready."

"According to my data, there's a 97.5-percent chance that he will attack when it's dark, specifically after sundown till 3:30 in the morning," he stated with a serious expression, flipping to the next page.

Sakuno was jotting down non-stop. Takashi was listening intently to every word. It was kind of strange to see him like this without his hand holding a baton.

"All-in-all, there are 14 reported cases at very random points around the city so we can't really tell where he'll show up next," Inui continued. "The victims are always women, within the age bracket of 18 to 29 years old..."

Sakuno swallowed, still scribbling away.

"...And although there are no killings or sexual harassments involved, he has been reported to have used brute force to get what he wants from his victims," Inui said in a low, clear voice that only the three of them could hear.

"The funny thing is," Takashi interjected, making the two look at him intently, "none of the victims were able to give us even a rough description on what he looks like."

"Because… he always strikes at night?" Sakuno continued uncertainly, tapping on her notebook.

Inui gave a nod. "And there's always a 77.2-percent chance that he will strike when it's raining so it's really kind of hard to tell," he said, closing his notebook and slipping it back into his coat. "Even our top cartographer tells us that."

_Like tonight_, Sakuno thought to herself, her anxiety growing at the pit of her stomach.

"It's also been reported that he carries a gun around, probably a 9mm," Takashi added, putting a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "So be careful, Miss Ryuuzaki," he said with concern to Sakuno.

The woman smiled at the officer. "Thank you," she said, pocketing her pen and notes. "I was just wondering, Detective Inui—"

Static broke from the receiver clamped onto Takashi's belt. A voice spoke, though barely incomprehensible. "C-code Red! We n-need back-up, NOW! I think we've found him! Over!" the voice yelled. Everyone in the precinct paused to listen. A couple poised, getting ready to leave the station.

Takashi grabbed his receiver and spoke through it. "Roger! Please state your location! Over!"

Sakuno's heart was sinking. She had a bad and, at the same time, glad feeling about this. _This is it, the break I've been waiting for!_ she thought.

"Roger! We're sending back up ASAP!" Takashi replied, turning to Sakuno. "Miss Ryuuzaki, please go home," he said, his hand poising to grab the baton protruding from Inui's pocket.

She felt outraged. She wasn't about to loose this shot at being the Editor-in-Chief, no. "What? I don't think so!" she yelled back amidst the blur of navy blue suit and the sound of ongoing sirens outside. "I need this story—"

"We know, but it's just not safe for a reporter on the scene," he tried explaining as calmly as possible. "There's a gunfight going on, and your grandmother won't be able to forgive me if anything happened to you."

Sakuno was on the verge of tears. She blinked it back, thinking of her overprotective grandmother. _I can't believe I'm letting this go. This is unfair._ "F-fine," she replied, trying to convince herself that it was 'fine.'

"I'll fill you in if ever we get new info about this guy," Inui said, in an attempt to make the disappointed columnist feel a little better.

"Good, now then, I'll need this..." said Takashi, grabbing his black, police baton. Inui's left eye twitch nervously. Well, actually, his glasses did.

Sakuno swallowed, preparing for impact. She held her arms in front of her face for protection.

"BURNING!" Takashi grabbed the sleeve of Inui's coat and was outside the double doors in an instant, leaving dust clouds and very bewildered officers behind them.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Sakuno hung her head to look at the ceiling, as though looking for answers that might be written there. _Fine_, she thought, frustrated. _This will have to wait till tomorrow then. Miss Shiba's going to kill me…_

With that last thought, she stepped out of police station number 2376 and into the heavy rain outside.

* * *

"What?" Sakuno couldn't believe her luck. She thought she should call it anything else other than _luck_. 

The old taxi driver took off his cap and ran a wrinkled hand through his gray hair. "My engine broke down," he repeated apologetically as he popped the car door open and stepped out to check the problem.

Sakuno cursed mentally. _First I lose the scoop, and now this?_ she asked the gods, not expecting a reply while she seated at the back and looked out the window glazed with water. This was such a bad neighborhood to have a car break down.

"This might take a while, miss," the old man called to her over the sound of the rain. "It's been like this for the past days now," he said with a smile as he propped the car hood up and started fumbling with whatever was inside it.

She suddenly felt bad for the old man. "It's okay, mister," Sakuno called back, grabbing a couple of tens from her bag and stepping out of the vehicle. The old man was taken aback when she handed her the bills.

His brows furrowed. "You only owe me five bucks so far—" he began.

Sakuno gave him a small, warm smile. "No, it's okay," she said, thrusting the tens into the old man's oiled hands. "Will this be enough for the engine to get fixed?"

The man was shocked. "But how will you get home, miss?" he asked with genuine concern. "I can still drive you—"

"No, it's okay, mister," said Sakuno, pulling the hood of her jacket up to cover her head, her long hair bunching up at the back of her neck. "I'll just walk; my place is just a couple of blocks from here, anyway."

Looking at the bills, the man said, "Thank you, miss."

"Don't worry about it," she called back with her back turned away from him. _Miss Charitable-Institution just kicked in again_, she scolded herself, suddenly remembering that she still had to pay the rent next week. Sakuno shrugged mentally. _He needs it more than I do. What the heck_.

The street lamps were on, but the entire strip, usually-busy strip of fast food chains, fancy restaurants and people, was empty. The sight of it gave her the chills. She scolded herself for not bringing an umbrella. Her sweater was soaked with rainwater, her mind soaked with letdown.

"Just forget about it," Sakuno muttered softly to herself, mist bursting from her lips with every shallow breath. She tried shrugging it off as she rounded the next corner towards her street.

But she couldn't suppress the feeling that there was definitely something wrong. It wasn't just because of the taxi's engine break-down.

_Oh, God_, she thought, stopping dead in her tracks. _This is bad_. Sakuno's heart throbbed harder and faster like the rain. _Damn, Detective Inui should've come with me._ She was scared beyond belief. Sakuno wanted to run, but she couldn't. _This is a perfect giveaway._ And she had half a mind to turn around and ask the old taxi driver to—

Just then a sharp object was jabbed into her back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

* * *

Author's note: A very long chapter, I must say. I hope it didn't bore you out. It's kind of Sakuno-centric. I wrote it just to give you guys a feel of what happened to the _Tennis no Ojisama_ characters. :D I told you the ending was hard to call a 'fluff.' Thank you for the kind reviews. I appreciate it. :) Please forgive me for the typos. I have horrible eyesight and have been wearing glasses/contacts since first grade. :) Coming up: _Chapter Two – Anonymous_. 


	3. CHAPTER TWO: Anonymous

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: Same as always. I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: Chapter two's up! Okay, I'm on a roll. Lol. I have nothing better to do since it's Christmas break. :D So there. The two finally meet! And I'm not gonna give away anything. Read on to find out. Still AU. :)

**CHAPTER TWO**

Anonymous

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Sakuno Ryuuzaki was numb. _Fear, fatigue, resignation_ – God only knew why. It made the rain seem like an autumn's day drizzle. The only thing she felt were hot tears spilling from her eyes down onto her cheeks and the knife hovering millimeters from her back. Although her jacket was thick, she could tell that the weapon was deadly. Well-sharpened like the deep, low voice behind her. She slowly raised her hands in surrender.

_According to Detective Inui's report, he only attacked in closed alleyways and roads_, she thought, trying to remember clearly despite the life-and-death situation she was in. _We're out in an open street. The detective must've made a mistake_—

"Turn around." The voice commanded her, plunging the knife a little closer to her body. She heard her leather coat rip.

Sakuno let out a quiet gasp. She couldn't move. Her whole body was stiff as a board. And even if she could, she knew she would've passed out at the sight of this man. _Grandma…_ she silently prayed to the heavens. _Help me… Please…_

"_Shit_, I said 'turn around'!" he repeated through gritted teeth. The man was growing impatient by the second.

Sakuno cried a little from the pain of the knife. _Just turn around_, she told herself as evenly as her mind could muster. _From the sound of it, he's not in a very good mood. Just give him what he wants and he can go_—

"Damn it—"

She tried to stifle her crying as she took a small forward so that she could face the man. Her head was lowered, palms still raised, and her heart banging in her head and chest. "Please—j-just take what you w-want—" There was a lump in her throat. It made it painful to talk. _Please... Grandma..._

The man was careful not to leave any room for Sakuno to escape. His hand holding the pocket knife never budged as she turned around. He then slowly raised it to her chin. She shivered. The blade was as cold as death.

"Look at me," the man ordered again. His voice suddenly changed in tone.

Sakuno sobbed, to afraid even to blink. He had her at knife's edge. It was just an inch away. _Grandma_—

He pressed the side of the blade on the tip of her chin and tilted her face up. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, her hair sticking to her face in wet clumps, and her lips trembling uncontrollably. It was a miserable state. His eyesight was this clear-cut even in the darkness. _What a pretty face_, he thought, leering menacingly. _It's too bad_...

Eyes filled with rain and tears, Sakuno gazed at the face of the man in front of her. It was too dark to see. "I-I have money-if-th-that's what y-you want," she begged, lowering her hands to grab the purse tucked safely inside the pocket of her coat.

He thrust the sharp edge of the blade closer, but not close enough to cut her bare skin. "Don't you dare move." It was a demand not to be refused. "Tell me where it is."

Sakuno choked. She straightened up her back. "In-inside my jacket, l-left pocket," the words came spilling out, but she didn't take her eyes off the man as he slowly slipped his free hand into her coat. Sakuno felt her face burn with sudden rage and embarrassment.

A shard of white lighting swept across the black sky. It was fast, but it was enough for Sakuno to get a glimpse on the face of the mugger. Her eyes widened. She felt color drain from her face as they were enveloped in darkness again. _This isn't good_—

The man was aware of what she had seen. He knew he was in trouble. "Shit," he murmured as he took out the small pouch from under Sakuno's coat.

_I've got you_, Sakuno thought with determination. She didn't know how she worked up that kind of courage when the knife was still aimed at the hollow of her neck. _Finally, everyone's gonna know the face of an asshole like you_—

The sound of police sirens echoed through the empty streets out of nowhere. It sounded like heaven. Sakuno's spirits lightened. She wanted to scream—

He looked at her intently. He cursed mentally. This would be the first victim who saw him face-to-face. His panic kicked in again, like it always did whenever he heard the sirens he feared more than anything.

"Please—let me g-go! You got w-what you wanted—" she sobbed, her tears mixing with the raindrops falling on her face. "The p-police are coming—"

But the man wouldn't leave. His left hand was still gripping the knife against her neck. He was debating something in his mind. Sakuno's senses told her that he wasn't about to leave anytime soon.

It was after a couple of agonizing moments before he spoke. She barely took in the last two words he whispered.

"I'm sorry."

There was a flash of painful, unseen light, and everything went black.

* * *

"Hello?" Takeshi Momoshiro answered his cell phone hesitantly. 

"_Momo_?" the voice on the other line asked. The service in the building was a little off, but he recognized the person instantly. His heart leaped with sudden hope.

It took about a couple of seconds for the man to reply. "_This is Taka_," he said through the static. "_I have some news._"

This made Momoshiro stand up. He held the phone closer to his ear. "Do you have him?" he asked quietly, running a caloused palm across his face in a frustrated manner.

"_That's the thing_," Kawamura said, a hint of regret seething into his voice. "_I thought we did_," he finished.

Momoshiro felt his heart sink into unfathomable depths for the umpteenth time around. He let an angry sigh escape his lips as he dropped to his seat. His knees gave out. "Damn it," he cursed onto the receiver. Momoshiro didn't care. "Who _is_ this guy, _anyway_? And how come he _gets away_ with it _every time_?" he pressed on.

Kawamura took another couple of seconds before he answered. He wasn't sure he knew what to say. "_If we knew that, we wouldn't be in this situation, Momo,_" she said, trying to comfort the man on the other line. "_I understand what you and your wife are going through, but these kinds of things take time and effort to solve. I've got the best officers and Inui working on the cases right now_—"

"_Damn it_, Taka," the enraged man cut him off. He stood up again, walked up a wall and landed a solid punch to it in fury. Pain shot up his arm. "How _long_ have you been onto this bastard? My _son_ is dead. My _wife_ is in a ward—"

"_I know, Momo. We all know and we couldn't feel more sorry and angry about that_," Kawamura replied patiently. "_But at this point, all you can do is wait_," he added.

A very pregnant pause followed. Both men made a sound.

Momoshiro let out another sigh, this time of clear resignation. He let his arm fall limply onto his side. "Thank you, Taka," Momo said through the receiver.

"_No problem_," Takashi said. "_Just remember that we're always here for you. We'll find out who that mugger is and put him behind bars where he belongs_," he added convincingly, his voice full of grit.

"Thank you," Momoshiro repeated.

"_Try to get some rest, Momo. You haven't had any sleep at all_," Takashi said. "_That's a policeman's order_."

Momoshiro chuckled softly. "Alright," he said. "Just fill me in on the new leads."

"_I will._"

* * *

"Ow—what… the h—" 

Sakuno Ryuuzaki muttered and tried opening her eyes, but it seemed as though her lids were glued together. She felt the back of her head throbbing in big jolts, like small electric shocks.

_What… happened_? Even her thoughts were slow. Sakuno attempted to recall what she could as she grabbed the soft, warm sheets wrapped around her body. She then found herself wanting to get lost in them. _Hmm… this feels nice_...

Except for the fact that they weren't hers.

With that realization, Sakuno instantly stood up and gasped for air like a drowning victim after CPR. Her brown eyes were blank and wide-open, darting around in sheer confusion around the dim, unknown vicinity. She clutched the bed sheets and drew them closer to her chest.

_Where am I?_ she thought, feeling hot blood pump through her cold veins. Her heart beat faster. _What the hell happened?_

"You're awake," a deep, male voice spoke from a dark corner of the small room.

Sakuno jerked her head towards the direction of the voice. Her vision was still blurred but she could make out a figure pacing towards the makeshift bed she was lying in. She looked up to see a familiar face that made her suck in air.

It all came flooding back to her.

_The night… the rain… the knife… her bag… the man… the flash of lightning…_

_Oh, my God_, Sakuno couldn't think of anything else to think. The same phrase echoed through her head over and over again. That sensation came back along with her memories. Numbness was spreading through her body like wildfire. She wanted to get away, to run—

"S-stay away from me—" Sakuno said under her breath, scampering away from the black-haired man who sat at the edge of the bed. "Who're y-you? Why d-did you take me h-here?" she asked him, her eyes rounded with unexplained fear.

The man continued to stare at her with his penetrating amber eyes. Sakuno gave a little shiver. The man was pretty good-looking, yet his gaze was bloodcurdling. "You stutter a lot," he said plainly. It wasn't meant as a joke.

Sakuno was taken aback, her brows knotting. "What?" she asked him. "Why do you care? You d-don't even know me," she spat, letting hate seep into her voice. He doesn't seem to be dangerous now compared with last night.

The man just scoffed. His face remained emotionless and void as he stood up and slipped off his shirt.

Sakuno blushed, but recovered quickly. "What do you think you're doing, you perv—"

He threw the plain, white shirt at Sakuno, hitting her square in the face. "Put that on," he said indifferently, turning away, busying himself with the old, beaten-up stove at the other side of the room.

She felt more confused than ever. But that was before she was curious enough to take a peak under the covers. Sakuno gave a small squeal, her cheeks burning. She quickly put the shirt on and stood up. It was big enough that it covered everything that needed to be covered. "You son-of-a—!" she yelled at the man, grabbing a rusty lamp from the bedside table and hurling it at him. Sakuno missed by an inch and the lamp shattered on the wall above the stove.

The man quickly whirled around. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" he asked her, his face switching from bemused to anything but amused.

Sakuno had already grabbed an old-fashioned alarm clock about the size of her face. "What did you do to me?!" She threw it at him without restrictions. She wanted to hurt him badly. Sakuno never felt this angry in her entire life, like her dignity was taken from her. In this case, it was.

The man caught the clock just before it hit his face. His reflexes were amazing that Sakuno paused in astonishment. But she quickly regained herself. "You should thank me for that!" the man yelled back, walking closer to Sakuno, who instinctively stepped back.

Sakuno gave him a look that spelled 'unbelievable'. The next things she grabbed was a sneaker on the floor. "_Thank you_?" she asked, dumbfounded. "You want me to say _thank you_ for doing _this_ to me—?"

"Damn it, lady, you were _soaked_," the man explained, clearly pissed off at what Sakuno was doing. She took another step back as he closed in on her. He was taller than she was. "You'd think I'd be interested in someone like _you_?" he asked her, his was as deadly as when he threatened her before.

She swallowed, staring into the man's yellow-gold eyes. She wasn't scared, but something about the way he looked at her made her shut up for a moment. _So that means that nothing..._ her thoughts trailed off in relief.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked him as he pulled away, though he didn't take his eyes of hers.

The man remained silent, his stance rigid and unflinching. His expression was completely illegible. Sakuno then noticed that he was shirtless, wearing only a pair of faded, worn-out jeans. _His body's pretty nice_, she thought. A soft hue of pink tinted her cheeks and neck. But her gaze was still unwavering. Sakuno quickly regained her composure.

"Why did you bring me here?" she pressed on, her need for answers getting the best of her. "What's your name?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her defensively.

Again, there was no answer. He just continued gazing at her as if not hearing a thing. This made Sakuno quite aggravated. She hated talking to unresponsive people.

"That's it," she said resolutely with aggravation. Sakuno turned around and looked for her clothes, but there was no sign of it anywhere. She turned back to look at the man. "Where's my stuff?" she demanded, her eyes glinting with pent-up exasperation.

The man didn't give an answer again. He didn't even blink.

"I need to go," Sakuno said, placing her hands on her hips. She was anxious, but didn't know what else to do or say.

He sneered at her annoyed face. This time he replied. But it wasn't what Sakuno was expecting. "You're not going anywhere, miss."

Sakuno raised an eyebrow. Being this outgoing was what Tomoka taught her. "What?" she said, amazed at his answer.

"Are you that slow or do I have to say it again?" the man shot back. He was surprisingly witty even when he looked this serious.

Sakuno was heated up. There was no way that this man was going to have a way with words towards her. If there was anybody in this room that was good at words, it was her. She wasn't scared anymore, no. She was angry.

"And why am I not allowed to leave?" she asked him inquiringly, hands still on hips. She had completely forgotten the fact that she was completely naked except for a loose shirt. Her brown hair was loose and was untidily tumbling down her shoulders. She looked anything but threatening, but Sakuno didn't care. "C'mon, enlighten me."

The man scoffed at her upset expression. He thought that he looked kind of cute when she's like that. "You're with the police," he said to her. It wasn't a question but an assumption.

Eyes widening with surprise, Sakuno looked at him thoughtfully. _How does he know that?_ "I can assure you, I'm not," she lied.

"I saw you leaving the precinct at the corner of 23rd and 4th last night," he said bluntly, his voice as piercing as his glare.

Sakuno's brows furrowed. "Wait, you were _following_ me?" she asked, outraged.

He snorted in reply. "What d'you think?" It was a rhetorical question.

She let out air in an attempt to relieve herself of her aggravated mood. It proved useless. "Tell me where my clothes are before I—"

Sakuno was cut short when a jab of pain shot from the side of her head. She was blinded for a moment before her knees buckled from the sensation. She then fell back onto the bed, her hand gently touching throbbing area. "What the—ow—" she gasped, barely able to talk.

The man turned away and fumbled with something inside the freezer. He came back after a few seconds, carrying a small, improvised ice bag. Sakuno notice that it was made from an old handkerchief.

She looked up at him with surprise. "Thank you," she said, reaching out to get the ice pack, but he pulled it away.

"Let me," he said as he knelt in front her. He was the one looking up to her now. The man gently applied the ice on her head just behind her right ear. It was where he had hit her the night before. His free hand was settled on the bed, just outside of hers.

Sakuno shifted uncomfortably, but decided it was best not to argue. Blood came rushing back to her cheeks again. She could barely feel the coldness of the pack. _Is this really him?_ she thought to herself as she got lost in his amber eyes once more. It felt odd when she felt that she was warming up to him all of a sudden. _He doesn't seem to be that dangerous at all_, she thought. _Okay, minus the fact that he knocked me out just to give the cops a slip._

She cleared out her throat. "Hey, if you don't mind," she whispered to him, eyeing the slender arm working on the bump on her head.

"Hn," was his only reply.

"What's your name?" she asked him for the second time around. She then focused her eyes back on his.

The man's eyes narrowed vaguely, but he still continued holding the icepack against her head. It was a quite a personal question, Sakuno noted, but he didn't seem to mind.

"They call me Prince."

* * *

Author's Note: Whew! I think everything went smoothly and hopefully I didn't forget anything. :) I hope you guys were able to get an image of the real story even though it's just the second chapter. The fluff was okay… I think. Lol. :) Please review. I need to know what you guys think. I'm also open for suggestions. Forgive me for the typos, yet again. :D 


	4. CHAPTER THREE: Silence

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_. Takeshi Konomi is a god. :D

**Author's Note**: Chapter three is done:D This is what happens when I'm completely bored to death. I'm all alone this Christmas, so there. Anyway, he finally lets her go. Will our little protagonist tattletale? Read on to find out. Thank you for the reviews. :) Yes, Ryoma did lose his memories. Beware of IM-talk. :)

**CHAPTER THREE**

Silence

It was another typical day at work and Saori Shiba was looking more frustrated than she usually did. A perpetual frown was plastered on her face and her hair was sticking out in odd places. Sakuno could perfectly imagine that she hadn't taken a bath nor had any sleep for days. The apparently darker circles around her eyes only added to her conviction.

But she didn't mind this at all. Her head was swimming in a blur of scenes and thoughts that flashed through her mind every minute or so. She could compare it to the bad hangovers she had during her college years.

"Ryuuzaki," Miss Shiba called to her, her voice sounding like it was on the brink of insanity. She slammed a hand onto her desk, making Sakuno flinch. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" she asked her.

Sakuno squeaked. "I'm sorry, Miss Shiba," she apologized, giving a low bow. "Please continue."

The older woman raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at the younger one. She straightened up and crossed her arms across her chest. "Sakuno," she began.

"Yes, ma'am," Sakuno looked up to face the very tired though very determined Editor-in-Chief.

"I believe you've been writing for the L.A. Times for the past four years," Shiba said, her voice changing in tone. "I know you that well to tell that you're not yourself today," she added.

Sakuno felt a little guilty. No, she felt _completely_ guilty. She forced the most honest smile she could make. "No, really," she tried convincing Miss Shiba — and herself. "I'm just short a couple hours of sleep, that's all," Sakuno lied.

Shiba didn't seem to buy it. But she waved it away, pressing on more important matters. "Give me your update on the mugger," she said, sitting back on her office chair and lacing her fingers together on the cluttered, hardwood desk.

_I knew she'd ask for this_, Sakuno thought. _Good thing Detective Inui had information to spare_. She pulled out her notebook and opened it to a bookmarked page. "I paid a visit to Officer Takashi and Detective Inui last night at the station," Sakuno started, looking at Shiba for any response.

She only nodded.

_I feel like I'm a backstabber_, Sakuno thought for a while, last night's incident flashing through her mind like photographs. She wanted to slap herself. _Backstabbing? He's a criminal, darn you, Sakuno. He knocked you out for God's sake_—

_But he_—

Clearing out her throat, she began reading aloud her findings and the detective's collective date from her notes. She noticed Shiba's frown and eyes were growing more intense with every word she said.

"That's everything," Sakuno said after she was done. "All information was courtesy of Officer Takashi and Detective Inui, like I said."

Shiba let out a sigh and gazed out the window. "That's all you've got?" she asked Sakuno, rearranging a pile of need-to-be-signed papers on her desk.

Sakuno stared at her superior with disbelief. But she fought hard not to show it. "Yes, ma'am, that's everything." She pocketed her notebook.

Her boss seemed to have been considering it for a moment. "Fine," she said to Sakuno as if she didn't have any other choice. "This newspaper needs to release an article about that asshole and what's he's up to in two days. But you need to find something deeper, Ryuuzaki, not just a couple of assumptions."

Sakuno felt disappointed, yet relieved at the same time. _Why do you feel relieved? You're about to lose the EIC spot as we speak,_ she scolded herself. "Yes, ma'am," Sakuno said, her resolute tone of voice the complete opposite of how the abrupt confusion building up inside her. "I'll work on to it. I won't disappoint you next time."

Shiba gave a nod. It secretly amazed Sakuno how her boss reminded her of how her grandmother made her feel — a naïve, young schoolgirl. "Dismissed," she said.

"Thank you," Sakuno said, exiting the room, leaving Saori Shiba with her thoughts.

_You've grown a lot from when I first met you, Sakuno. But there's something about you seems different…_

_

* * *

_"I tried calling you last night, but I think your cell phone was turned off," Satoshi Horio was leaning coolly against Sakuno's desk, attempting to act smooth unflappable. He was failing miserably, she could tell. 

Actually, it wasn't, Sakuro replied mentally. _The mugger got to me when I was about to go home. Obviously, I was out off luck because the taxi I hired broke down and my phone ran out of charge_, she added, as though she herself refused to believe it.

A vein was throbbing on Sakuno's forehead as Horio jabbered away rapidly about his six years of experience in journalism. She didn't have time for this, not now. She didn't need this stuck-up wannabe taking up her precious alone-time while everything in her life was just start getting too complicated for a woman to handle.

Her computer made a small 'pop' sound, indicating that someone had opened an Instant Messenger window in her screen. Her spirits flew when she recognized the username to be Tomoka's. She barely noticed Horio talking away about how he got a promotion when he was only six months on the job and typed a quick reply. She hit the 'enter' key with unnecessary force.

_**QueenOsakada9864**: I c that loser's hitting on u again._

_**RyuuzakiSakuno**: OMG, pls save me._

"...So, you see, it was long when I became a regular columnist on the Opinions page of L.A. Times. The editor was only looking for sheer ingenuity with a superb writing style such as myself..."

_**QueenOsakada9864**: Sorry, can't. I'm in 'detention' ryt now coz I let Kachiro Kato leave d newspaper. EIC's kinda pissed. She asked me 2 make a stupid article about how owning an iguana can make a person live longer._

Sakuno chuckled softly. Horio seemed to have mistaken that she was amused with whatever he was yapping about. She rolled her eyes nonchalantly and wrote her reply.

_**RyuuzakiSakuno**: LOL. I cn't shake him off, damn it. I'm thinkin about shoving my pencil up his nose._

Tomoka replied fast.

_**QueenOsakada9864**: LMFAO. Anyway, have u got any good stuff about d mugger?_

Surprised, Sakuno took longer than usual to send out a reply. The sudden change of topic caught her off guard. Even Tomoka's interested on this guy, she thought, thinking about the man with yellow eyes, the messy, black hair trimmed just right, the way he—

"Hey, Sakuno," Horio broke her rather sensual thoughts. For the first time, she was grateful that he did. She didn't like where they were headed nor did she like the unknown reason as to why she thought of them constantly. It was distracting. "Are you listening to me?" he asked, concerned.

Sakuno turned to look up at Horio. Her face was blank for a few moments before she opened her mouth to speak. "Uhm," she said, unsure of what to say. "It's n-nothing, Horio. I just need sleep. I've been on coffee for since last night." Sakuno wondered how many lies she had to tell to convince everyone that she wasn't a bit bothered.

She quickly returned to her computer screen, her fingers hitting the keyboard at top speed.

_**RyuuzakiSakuno**: Sorry, Tomo. GTG. Something just came up. CUL8R._

Sakuno logged off her account and her computer station. She hurriedly grabbed her purse along with whatever was left in it and walked towards the exit with a perplexed Horio trailing after her.

_I can't do this, Sakuno thought resolutely. I need time to think and clear-up my mind of everything that isn't supposed to be there._

_

* * *

_

Sakuno tried to suppress a laugh. Her hand flew up to her lips to cover the smile that broke through it. "Prince?" she echoed, through a giggle. "That's a weird name for a guy."

He dropped his hand holding the icepack and looked at Sakuno with his golden, narrowed eyes. "I didn't ask for your opinion," she shot back indifferently, placing the bag of ice on her lap. It stung her bare skin like red-hot metal.

"Hey, ow!" Sakuno squealed, seizing the makeshift bag and replacing it to her head. Her scalp wasn't affected by the cold that much since her brown hair was thick enough. "Ice can burn too, you know," she said to him, but Prince wasn't paying too much attention.

She watched him as he turned around and sat, cross-legged on the floor, just a few feet away form her. He began fumbling the contents of a very lady-like leather bag on a coffee table which looked like it was on its last legs. It swiftly hit Sakuno that this was not a guy to be trusted. Suddenly, her true priority pushed her towards what she needed to do and know.

_I've got you now, _Sakuno thought as she remembered what Saori Shiba had told her._ You're not gonna get away this time. You'll pay for taking all of what that poor mother had..._

Sakuno was silent for a few seconds, making a line-up of questions that didn't give away her true intentions easily. When she was satisfied, she crossed her legs and placed the icepack down on the bed. She came up with a curious, innocent face — much like the one she had when she was in middle school. Sakuno noticed that Prince was still busy stripping the wallet of everything that was inside it.

"So," she started. "How long have you been doing this?" she asked him, acting like she came up with the question out-of-the-blue._ Answer me honestly, damn it, so I can move on to the next one._

A few moments passed before Prince spoke. Sakuno confirmed that he was in a different time zone, maybe in a different world. He threw the empty wallet into a large garbage sack. The leather bag followed. Sakuno winced when she noticed that it was Armani. "When it became necessary," Prince said offhandedly.

Sakuno raised an eyebrow._ He's a weird guy. Necessary? _"And when was that?" she pressed on, attempting to sound as casual as possible.

His response was quicker than the first one. "Why do you need to know." It was a more of a statement than a question.

Flinching a little, Sakuno decided to let it go. Even if this guy showed his 'warm' side to her, he was still a criminal. He was supposed to be taken behind bars, not to be meddled with.

"No reason," she said, shrugging. _This is going to be harder than I thought_. "I was just curious." Sakuno let a few moments pass. _This is guy isn't gonna budge as planned._ It dawned onto her that he never answered one of her first questions. "Why'd you bring me here?" she asked him, looking up from the dull-gray floor.

He answered quicker than Sakuno had predicted. His voice had the same venom that dark, rainy night when he had threatened her. "You're with the police." His answer was the same as before, indicating that no further elaboration was needed.

_Damn, he is following me. _"I told you, I'm not working for the police. I'm with the press—"

She paused at mid-sentence. Oops. I think I might've said too much, Sakuno thought, slightly horrified.

Prince scoffed, cutting off Sakuno's useless explanation. He was onto another purse. A small, red handbag this time.

_I guess that takes the toll up to 17 victims including myself, _Sakuno thought"How old are you?" she asked him again, eyeing him as he tipped the contents of the bag onto the table. There was a wallet, a compact, and a lipstick. He immediately grabbed the wallet.

His eyes were narrowed again, though he never spoke a word, Sakuno grew impatient, but she wasn't about to give up yet, not when her one-way ticket to promotion was standing in front of her. Say something to make him open up to you. "I'm 23 years old, but most of the time people don't believe me—"

A pair of jeans came flying out of nowhere and hit Sakuno in the face. She made a muffled sound of alarm but recognized it to be hers when it fell on her lap. Her leather jacket came next. What the— It took her a couple more seconds for her to figure it out.

_He's letting me go? _thought Sakuno as her eyes fell on her clothes. She noticed that they were freshly laundered. She opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again, undecided. Instead, she muttered, "Th-thank you."_ What is this guy playing at?_

Prince stood and threw the last purse inside the sack along with the others. He then walked to where Sakuno was sitting and slipped his hands inside his pockets. The woman tilted her head up to get a better look at his face. Sakuno's cheeks warmed up considerably.

_His eyes look nice... _she thought._ They look different from the ones I saw last night—_

"Your bag is in the pocket of your coat," he instructed her as though giving a command. His voice was droning. "I didn't take anything," he assured her, his face as blank as a wall. "And I threw in something else there."

Sakuno felt around the inside of her jacket and pulled out her purse. Hastily, she unzipped it and looked for anything foreign. Her jaws dropped when she found out what Prince meant by 'something.' It wrapped loosely around her fingertip.

Air escaped through her lips. She was at a loss for words. "Oh, my God..." was all she could come up with. _Where did he get—_ Sakuno gazed at Prince with amazement. _Get a hold of yourself. Don't forget your priority_. She quickly shifted her expression to confusion. "What's this for?"

"For the trouble."

Sakuno knotted her eyebrows, looking at the beautiful, white gold, diamond ring in her hand. She didn't need to be an expert on rocks to tell that the thing was real._ I think I think know what's coming up next. No, no, no— _"What trouble?" she asked, pretending to be naïve.

Unexpectedly, Prince knelt down in front of her, in one knee. He then rested both his closed fist on either side of Sakuno, who, for some unknown reason, couldn't react. It was like she was trying to catch her breath. The hand holding the ring swayed a little.

He stared into her eyes. "I need to ask you a favor," he said, his voice unnaturally appealing that Sakuno couldn't bare to say no.

_What are you doing?! You're actually gonna listen to this guy?! _Sakuno mentally yelled at herself. Her thoughts weren't in their usual logical array and she didn't know why. All she could think were his striking, amber eyes and the way his messy, black hair fell onto it all the right places—

"What kind of favor?" asked Sakuno as she dropped the piece of fine jewelry back into her bag. _My promotion..._ She looked down on to the clothes on her lap. Sakuno felt doubtful.

"I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone about this," Prince said. His tone was rough, as though he had just told her classified information.

Sakuno's heart was hitting her chest hard. Her thoughts knotted themselves together went cloudy. She didn't know if it was the blow on her head or her muddled judgment that made her think of things she's even supposed to considering, not even in her wildest dreams.

_Am I supposed to just let him slip away? What about my—What the hell am I thinking? The police are out looking for him. He's a criminal, for God's sake—! He's the reason why that woman's son is dead—He doesn't to be at all that dangerous anymore—no, that's what he wants me to think, damn it! I know his face well enough to give them every detail. The moment I step out of this room, I can tell the police. They're just a phone call away—_

Prince placed his thumb lightly on Sakuno's chin. He tilted her head up a bit so that her brown eyes met his. "Please," he said. But he wasn't begging. He wasn't even close. "I need you to understand that this kind of life is hard—"

Sakuno looked away and made a derisive sound. "Do you think of that every time you point a knife at someone?" she shot back, tears filling her eyes not because of fear, but of rage. She thought of that woman and her son again. "How can you be so selfish—?"

"Please." Prince placed both his hands on her shoulders. The gesture wasn't forceful, but it somehow comforted the cross woman. "I don't know why I'm doing this, but I need you to understand that this is how I get by," he said, gazing into her eyes. He then added, softly, "I don't have a future, not even a past." He lowered his head a little.

Blinking back tears, Sakuno furrowed her brows. Prince was getting talkative, giving away the panic he was feeling. No past...? "W-what do you mean by that?" she asked him. The heat of his body was radiating onto hers. _He's warm..._

Prince looked up again. He withdrew his grip on her and pressed his palms on her cheeks. His hands were calloused, but unexpectedly comfortable. "That doesn't matter," he said. His face was just an inch away from hers. "Just promise me that you won't tell anyone."

_Oh God. _Sakuno looked at him again. It was a fatal mistake._ What's happening to me? This isn't right at all—_

But, in the end, only one thought floated to the surface of her mind. "I promise," she finally let out._ I don't believe this—_

For the first time, a spark of relief flashed through Prince's eyes. But it instantly became cold and unemotional again. He came closer, making Sakuno's eyes widen. She was taken aback by his temperamental gesture.

He placed a quick, light kiss on her forehead. "Thank you," he said.

* * *

**  
Author's Note**: Another loooong chapter. Ouch. Sorry for the slow update. I kind of overslept last night. Lol. :D Looks like our little prince is warming up to our little reporter. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Review please:) Forgive me for the typos. Oh, and the last part was a flashback by the way. :D The next story is more on the "Prince," as he calls himself. :) Coming up: _Chapter Four – Lost._


	5. CHAPTER FOUR: Lost

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: _drearymoments_: Sakuno doesn't recall him at all. She never got to see his picture, remember:D _FujixSaku0709_ He lost his memories and everything, so technically, he's not really a "prince" anymore right? He lives in a dump by the way. :) _To all_: Read on. :) Please excuse my Japanese. I just wanted to add a couple of lines to make it a little believable. Lol. Please feel free to correct me. :D

P.S. Sorry for the slower-than-usual update. _Gomen_. I had a girls' night out party two nights ago, then I went to another party the night after. God, help me. I'm so tired. Lol. :) I'm also having a hard time writing this chapter since it's more on what goes on in a _guy_'s mind. Now, wouldn't we all like to know more about that:D

P.P.S. This chapter's kind of boring, but some of the details are kind of important to the story's flow. Please bear with me. I wanted to let you guys know the non-criminal side of Prince. :D

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Lost

A man clad in a dark blue suit pressed the receiver against his ear. He then placed the heavy folder he was holding onto the desk. "_Hai, Echizen Nanjirou desu,_" he answered, turning his chair around to face the large, hanging window. It was getting dark outside. Days are getting shorter, he realized. _It's been a long time..._

A soft hiss echoed through the other line.

Nanjirou gave a hollow laugh. "_Anata wa doko desu ka?_" he asked, gazing out the window and into the center fountain outside. The moon was full and it made it seem like the water was glowing.

There was another hiss.

He let out a sigh, understanding. "Fine, you can come right in," Nanjiro said in Japanese, ending the phone call. He turned his tall, office char back as the double doors at the end of the room swung open. A man draped in a trench coat walked, his slow, sharp footsteps reverberating through the hall.

A cat-like grin swept across Nanjirou's face. He instantly became a different person. "So..." he said with sudden enthusiasm as he leaned his elbows over his messy desk. "You told me you didn't have the time."

The man scoffed. His eyes were piercing, his black pupils like slits. "It's been a while, Mr. Echizen." Even his voice was snake-like.

"Tch." Nanjirou's smirk became a little serious. He placed his hands behind his head and sat back in his chain in a relaxed position. "Yes, it has," he said with casual indifference, eyeing the signature green bandana around the other man's head.

He hissed. "I wouldn't have come if you didn't tell me what it was for," the Viper said, sitting on the edge of the big, wooden desk. He slipped out a handgun from under his coat and began eyeing it closely. "He still isn't back," he said.

Nanjirou's face remained unaffected, leering. "It's just like before," he said. "He's just bigger and you're older."

A vein twitched on the Viper's forehead. The fist around the handle of his gun tightened considerably, but he let it pass. "Don't pick a fight with me, Echizen," he whispered. "I'm the one doing you a favor here."

The man clad in a suit snorted. He looked out of place because of his unpleasant behavior. "I see _you_ haven't changed." Nanjirou's mischievous grin returned.

"I see _you_ haven't." The Viper's snake-like eyes landed on a small stack of FHM magazines peeking from underneath the untidy pile of paperwork on his presidential work desk.

Nanjirou's eyes widened. He laughed embarrassingly as he reached out and tried to hide it under his more important documents.

The Viper grunted, fixing his glare at his .45 Caliber. It glinted menacingly against the light from the ceiling. "How do you know he isn't dead?" he asked the rather calm man. "It's been weeks."

Nanjirou's expression went blank as he stared off into space. "Just bring him back," he said, sneering, "whatever it takes."

His eyes narrowed as he gave another low hiss. The Viper tucked the gun back into his coat. "Fine," he said, standing up and heading for the exit. He didn't say another word as he closed the door behind him, his long trench coat flapping at his tail.

With a tired yawn, Nanjiro resumed his relaxed position and put up his feet, ankles crossed, on his table. He looked up at the elaborately decorated ceiling as a smirk appeared on his lips. _Where have you gone off to…?_ he thought, sighing inwardly. He then gave a quiet chuckle when his eyes landed on a small picture, framed in beautiful, furnished rosewood, on the side of his desk.

It was young boy when he was around six or seven, wearing a private school uniform and sporting a white cap. He had messy, black-green hair and the very same sharp, rounded eyes as the one looking at the olden photograph, except that the boy's were amber while his was black.

_You still _are_ a child_.

* * *

_  
A shattering scream broke the silence, macabre and as cold as the night. It sounded like a desperate plea for help. And there was no one there to hear it — just as he had planned. Everything was all too perfect. It was as though it was a gift from the gods in replace of all that they had taken from him._

_And he took the liberty of it for all that he could._

_He was running as fast as he could, his hand heavy with his prize, his heart with indescribable burden. It somehow made his movement harder, like the there were weights bound to his ankles. This wasn't going to do. He could hear someone catching up to him already. He didn't dare look back._

Lose him. Now.

_There was a corner up ahead. He knew this part of town like the back of his hand. He'd make a left turn and disappear into the small street that lead to a dark, underground passageway where he shook off all those who were foolish enough to think that they could detain him._

_His heart was pumping at its limit. Every beat felt like a stab to his chest. Shit— He slowed down a notch as the corner came closer. He couldn't afford slipping._

_Breathing in bitter air, he twisted his body to the left and took up his speed again. But he immediately screeched to a halt. He stood, frozen in horror as he stared at the closed alleyway before him. There was supposed to be some kind of mistake. Now he was the victim. There was nowhere to run._

What the hell—

_The footsteps behind him stopped. From how it sounded, he was just a few meters behind him. His body gave a jerk when he heard the familiar sound of a gun being loaded; it sent chills up his spine. His blood felt like it was on fire. _So this is how it's going to end...

A tragic end meets a tragic life…

_Slowly, he raised his hands, a sign that he was giving up, and turned to face his captor. He half-expected to see the glint of the copper badge worn by the police. At this point in time, it was reassuring. At least he knew that they were going to let him live. For a little while longer._

_But he didn't see it what he had hoped._

_All he saw was were the whites of a pair of beady eyes against the darkest of black._

_There was a gunshot._

Prince woke with a start, his body burning but his sweat as cold as ice. Where used to be amber in his eyes were now black lined in gold. His pupils were dilated as he tried to catch his breath. He tried to sit up, propping his elbows on the bed to push himself up. The air stung the bare skin of his chest. Every bit of him was shaking wildly.

_It was a dream—just a dream_, he comforted himself with his unspoken words, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Prince remained in this position for a few moments.

He ran a hand through his face as though trying to erase whatever he didn't like that was that was in his head. The skin on his face was numb. He couldn't feel a thing. _It's not real..._

Prince felt his heart beat gradually fade back into it normal rate. His breathing slowed down along with it. _That's right; it's just a damn dream_... Slightly hyperventilating, he swallowed a lump in his throat. It was as if his escape from death had happened.

_Stop it_, he told himself, standing up, his bare feet feeling the rough, uneven floorboards. He quietly made his way across the garage-turned-bedroom, to the corner that served as the kitchen. The "prince" twisted the faucet knob and stooped in front of the rusty sink. He repeatedly splashed cold water onto his face in an attempt to regain his senses.

_I've seen that guy before_, he realized, his body going rigid as he stared at the small pool of water slowly draining down the small tub. Prince grabbed either side of the sink for support. _I swear I've seen those eyes before_... The strands of his black hair fell on his eyes as lowered his head. _What's happening to me?_ he asked to no one in particular.

Prince slowly stood up straight and walked back to his bedside, feeling anything but sleepy. He gazed at the slightly termite-eaten nightstand with great intent, narrowing his eyes as though he was looking through it. _Maybe it's time to take it out again..._

_You know it's useless. You won't be able to get it back anymore,_ a voice in his head abruptly contested. But another one pressed on. _It's still worth one more shot_. Prince ran his fingers through his sweat-and-water soaked hair in exasperation. He grew tired of this. It'd been a little over a month now...

A weary, somewhat agitated sigh escaped his lips, but his face didn't betray any sign of restlessness, his eyes still on the bedside table. He pulled the topmost drawer and pulled out its only content. Prince crumpled his brows in thought as his gaze fell on the thick, archaic, leather bound notebook. It was about the size of a business planner.

He had found it, along with other garbage, over a month ago as he was about to burn all the accumulated purses and wallets that he had stolen to avoid any trace of evidence in case of a raid. He had noticed the thing was outdated for about two years but he decided to make better use of it.

Prince turned the newly-fixed table lamp and a soft, yellow glow slowly enveloped the room. He then sat the edge of the bed and stared at the small binder he held in his hand. _What the heck_, he thought resignedly, blowing on the cover and littering dust in the air. _It won't hurt if I took a peek again. I might as well write down what I saw._

He placed the notebook on his lap and flipped the cover open. Prince skimmed the names, dates, and rough sketches all scribbled with his own handwriting. The binder was empty when he had found it but he had written this much since then. With every page he flipped, the more confused he became. It didn't help his situation, just as he had predicted.

The first few leaves were a combination of mathematical computations and seemingly nonsense sentences. He could perform basic and slightly complex operations, he had realized. It was dated a couple of days after he came across the notebook. It was also the same day when he discovered that he was fluent with Japanese and English. And that he was left-handed.

Prince flipped to the next page, swearing mentally. It was a two-page spread of an attempt to sketch the inside of his garage-apartment. The drawing looked like a piece of art that would be hung on a refrigerator door somewhere. Apparently, he couldn't draw.

_This is such a waste of time_...

The next entry was a log of his dreams and more sketches of what he had seen. A few details were ignored, Prince remembered. But the sight of them made recalling the dream easier.

There was a furry Himalayan cat on the upper right corner. '_Ka—_?' was written below in bold letters. He frowned at it, trying to bring to mind. '_Can't remember_' was underneath it. Prince felt a sudden jab of remorse. _I knew this was hopeless—_

He continued browsing, the same emptiness gnawing at the pit of his stomach. A man in a dark business coat... Tennis balls... Rackets... A glittering house that seemed like a labyrinth... A woman with a smile that gave him odd reassurance... Crowds and crowds of blurred, unknown faces... Flashes of light and indistinguishable voices talking in unison...

And lastly, those eyes he had seen that night.

Prince exhaled, as though ridding himself of the weight he felt, and took that pen he had placed in between the pages. '_Snake eyes_' he wrote on the space above the cat. He then jotted down the date.

_Who was I?_ he thought when he had finished, not anticipating any answer. He couldn't count the times he had asked himself that. _What happened to me...?_

In his desperation, Prince once or twice found himself wanting to go to the police for help. Maybe they have a record of him somewhere then he might probably get an idea of who he was. But everything he had done to stay alive had prevented him from doing so. He knew they wouldn't let him go so easily. They would recognize him instantly, especially if that girl—

Prince jerked out of his trance. Long, dark hair, big brown eyes, and porcelain skin flashed through his eyes. His blood suddenly felt hotter. He shook off the mental image but it was still printed into his mind like a bad burn. _I don't need this right now..._

He couldn't help it, remembering the way she sleeping under the warmth of his sheets, stretched across his bed, the strands of her hair falling like water on the pillow, her skin looking perfect under the low light, her lips slightly parted, the soft curves of her chest slowly heaving as she breathed—

_Stop_.

Prince's logical side was trying to weigh down a reluctant thought. But it was futile to resist the fact that he was strangely drawn to that strange woman in a way that drove his mind to the border of insanity. He had only met the girl yesterday. And she did look rather sexy in his shirt, her flawless legs peeking out from under its hem. He knew she's kill him if she found out what a view he was getting—

_Stop it_. _Damn it, she saw your face_, he scolded himself for how reckless he had been. If that girl ran to the cops... _They'd have wanted posters with your face all over the downtown_. He couldn't afford to be seen in public again if that happened.

Another side of Prince disagreed. _She gave me her word_, it insisted. _I can tell the true intention of people by the way they look at me_. He recalled the first time her eyes betrayed her purpose. It was why she was asking him one question after another. It was a giveaway.

He had followed her the moment she stepped out of the taxi. Prince instantly recognized her as the woman who had just left the precinct after a code red had sounded. It was sheer coincidence that her taxi broke down in the vicinity of his territory. It was all too easy after that.

But then, later in their encounter, he had noticed the sudden change in her aura. Her eyes lost a certain glint and her movement suggested that she was more comfortable. Her cheeks even turned red a couple of times — it was hard to miss with her complexion. He regretted that he had to hit her just to escape the police. Prince had used force on a woman before if she didn't give in to his request. But he couldn't see how this time would be any different. It was frustrating.

The harder part came when he had reached his lair and wanted to give her a change of clothes. They were under the rain for long time and the weather was colder than usual. He hesitated at first—

_That's enough_.

He closed the notebook and replaced it back in the nightstand. He made up his mind that maybe it was just lack of sleep that further clouded his better judgment. With a yawn, he clicked off the lights and snuggled back into the bed, emptying his head of unneeded views. In his susceptible position, it was a mistake to think of things that he knew he would regret later.

_Shit_.

Prince sat up as soon as his head hit the pillow. A realization had lit up inside him. It was a mixture of more regret and, at the same time, disgust with himself.

_I forgot to ask her name_.

* * *

**  
Author's note**: Whew! It's finally done! That was, so far, the hardest chapter to write. Hey, it's hard to dig into a guy's head, especially if that guy is Ryoma. Lmao. :D Again, I'm sorry for the late update. Like I said, I was pretty busy. And I was typing this one finger short because I got a burn. :\ But don't worry. Nothing will stop me from finishing this story. :) Please tell me if I missed anything. Thank you. :D Coming up: _Chapter five – Caught_.

**Another thing**: Thank you Laura-chan for pointing out my mistake. :) Prince wasn't supposed to know Sakuno's name till the next time they meet, but in one part in chapter three, he called her by her name. Thank you so much for pointing that out. It was my mistake and I corrected it immediately. Thanks. Keep on reading. :D


	6. CHAPTER FIVE: Caught

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_. Just this story.

**Author's Note**: Thank you for the great reviews everyone:) It made me so happy that I finished two chapters in one day. :D Uhm, so there. d_rearymoments_: No, in this story Ryoma and Sakuno do _not_ know each other at all. Seigaku, the tennis club, and everything from the original _POT_ plot were omitted. It's a fresh start. :D _FujixSaku0709_: Prince habitually records everything he remembers or dreams about to find out if he can get his memories back. So, yeah, I think you got it. :) _Eternal.Angel_: It's _rated M_ because of slightly foul language and... Well, just read the upcoming chapters to find out. :D

Happy 2008 everyone:D

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Caught

The red-haired waiter with a bandage on his cheek eyed her with a very curious mixed with concern expression on his face. "That's your third, Sakuno," he said, placing the _venti_ caramel frappucino on her table. "Caffeine is like alcohol. It's bad when you take in too much," he lectured, brandishing his tray at her.

Sakuno smiled apologetically. _Eiji's such a sweet guy_. He was a little older than her but he had always given the impression that he was a kid at heart. It made her heart a little lighter just by seeing his familiar grin. "Thanks for the concern, but I need this now," she said, downing her order.

Eiji made a face of slight disgust. "_Yeck_," he said. "Even I can't drink that much. This isn't a bar, you know, and I doubt you'll forget whatever it is you're thinking of no matter how many more of those you order." He wiped his hand on the green apron he was wearing.

Placing the half-empty glass down, Sakuno looked up at the waiter. _He knows._ "I know, but it's better than taking alcohol. You know I don't drink."

He chuckled good-naturedly. "You're the only writer I know who doesn't drink," he said as he put a finger to his chin thoughtfully, gazing up at the ceiling.

"You people say that all the time," Sakuno said with a forced smile. "Is there, like, an unwritten law somewhere that you have to be an alcoholic to be considered a writer?" she asked jokingly. _Though getting a drink at the bar does sound nice right now_...

The man laughed again. "No, I don't think so," he replied. "But I think—"

A bell rang at the counter, cutting his sentence short. The bald, plump manager was behind the cash register. "Hey, Kikumaru," he called to Eiji. A few people turned to look at the waiter. The manager had always been a little harder on him than the other employees, Sakuno noticed. "The coffee grinder isn't shorted out. Take at look at it, will you?"

"Wait a sec, alright?" he whispered to Sakuno, who flashed him a small smile. He returned to his post, muttering. "Damn it, being Mr. Handyman isn't what I'm being paid for here..."

Sakuno watch as Eiji disappeared at the back of the coffee shop before finishing off the rest of her frapuccino. _Poor Eiji_, she thought as she looked out the window, watching the passersby in their typical morning routine. The traffic was horrible. Even the shop was jam packed despite the peaceful ambience it had.

She let out a soft sigh, feeling the aftermath of cold coffee down her throat. It was like she was having a bad cold — her body's reaction after drinking too much caffeine. A shiver ran through her spine. Another expected reaction. _I hate it when this happens_...

With another exhale, Sakuno positioned herself more comfortable on the soft sofa she had claimed by coming early in the morning. It had been almost three hours since her little walk-out in the office. A solid realization hit her like a Metro bus.

_Miss Shiba must be looking for me—Shit_. She immediately she rummaged around her purse for her cell phone. _She'll have my head for this_— she thought, digging deeper. Her fingers grazed something unfamiliar. Sakuno froze when she remembered everything.

Slowly, as though moving fast would kill her, she pulled out the diamond ring from her bag. Her eyes went misty when they fell on the piece of jewelry, still in perfect condition after being crammed in her messy bag overnight. She held it up against the window for a better look. The stone glittered under the late morning sunlight.

It was the most beautiful she had ever seen.

_Prince_... she thought as she slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit, like it was especially made for her. _I wonder how he is_—

_What are you doing?_ she yelled at herself mentally. She even jerked when she heard the voice in her head. That's not even yours. _Who knows from whom he took that from or how he took it_.

But Sakuno didn't care. She remained at her stance, her gaze fixed at the diamond. She thought of the man who had given it to her. The way his penetrating, yellow eyes fell on hers as his musky scent filled her nostrils... How his hands felt as he gently touched his cheek... How he gently kissed her between the eyes... How he—

Her purse vibrated against her leg, breaking her building thoughts. She was grateful for it the way she was thankful for the Horio earlier. _Darn_. _It must be Miss Shiba..._ Sakuno dived into her purse until she found her mobile and answered the incoming call.

"Hello?" she said into the receiver quietly so as not to disturb the other customers.

The caller wasn't the one she was expecting. "Hello?" the man on the other line said. "Is this Sakuno Ryuuzaki?"

Sakuno recognized it at once. Her heart skipped a beat. _It's a scoop._ "Detective Inui," she replied as she took out her pen and notepad. "It's been a while. Have you got anything interesting?"

But her emotional state soon sank when she realized that the man she had just been thinking of was the same man she was going to expose to the people and media. Perhaps to the world. _Don't be a pussy, Sakuno_, she told herself. Her palms became sweaty.

The detective appeared hesitant. "I shouldn't be making this call now, so I can't stay long. A reliable source just reported the probable hideaway of the mugger," he said, static cracked. Sakuno could make out the hyper Officer Kawamura yelling in the background.

_Get a hold of yourself_, she thought, hearing every word of Detective Inui as though it were a death sentence. Her breathing and the beating of her heart was labored more than ever. _Everything's gonna be okay_...

It took her all the courage she could muster to open her mouth. Her jaws were clenched. "W-where?" she asked with dread. _Please let them be wrong... Please..._

The man cleared out his throat. "They said it was an abandoned garage within a two-mile radius of downtown," he said.

Sakuno's heart felt like it was dropped to the floor. The hand holding her cell phone shook uncontrollably as she felt an invisible hand constrict her neck, making it harder to breathe. Although she was blindfolded when Prince had led her out of his lair, she knew that the detective's date was remarkably correct. She knew too much of every twist and turn in this city for a blindfold to obscure that. _No..._

"We headed straight for the area as soon as we got the information; we're already in the scene as we speak..." he continued.

_No, this isn't real... It's not real—_

"...and Officer Kawamura and his team are conducting the standard procedure raid..."

Every word was a stab to her chest. She was on the verge of passing out. Every bit of her was numb and chilled to the bone. Sakuno knew it wasn't the caffeine-overload. _Oh, my God, no, no, no—_. Even the voice in her head didn't protest.

A thousand thoughts swam through her mind and she cursed her imagination to be so wide that it was capable of thinking about a million unpleasant possibilities that could happen, especially to that man... _This is just a bad dream_—

"Miss Ryuuzaki?" Detective Inui's voice spoke through the phone. "Are you still there? Didn't you hear what I just said?" he asked hurriedly.

_Don't worry, everything will be alright. Just stay calm, Sakuno_. _Stay calm._ "Y-yeah, I'm still here," she called back, slightly gasping between words. "I'm s-sorry, the reception's bad in h-here—"

"I just said that the place is empty. There was no one there."

* * *

The midday sun was shining overhead like it always did at noon. The streets were still busy, office people getting something to eat, small school children heading home, cars and buses weaving in and out of the corners, all with their own lives to deal with. The air was filled with indistinguishable noise. It was a typical day in the city.

The Viper stood, leaning with his back to a brick wall of an Italian restaurant, his razor-sharp eyes scanning the throng of people one-by-one. His radar was far from tingling. A quiet hiss escaped his lips. Two ladies who happened to pass him by looked at him with alarm and quickly disappeared in the swarm of people.

He rolled his eyes and turned away to survey another group across the street from him. It was nothing suspicious and he instantly lifted his gaze and let it fall to a young woman exiting the coffee shop on one corner of an intersection. She was slightly hyperventilating, he could tell even at a distance. The Viper watched with intent as she called for a taxi and drove out of sight.

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffed. _Must've lost her cell phone or something_. He scanned the vicinity again for anything that was worthy to catch his attention. There was nothing he could see, just normal people doing normal things...

And then he saw it. It was what he was looking for. Black-green hair peeking out against the sea of blondes and brunettes. It was the kind of hair color that was hard to miss. The man was in the same sidewalk as he was, walking in the opposite direction. Without delay, the Viper charged into the mob.

_Damn it_, he swore as he made his may through the crowd, not bothering to apologizing after bumping into other people. He heard grunts and yells of annoyance behind him The man was a little over three meters away. Two meters. Two feet.

The Viper grabbed the man's shoulder, expecting to see the face he had been searching for. His adrenalin dropped when the man turned around. He was much older than expected. And his eyes were aqua-blue.

Freezing for a moment, the Viper dropped his hand. "Excuse me, I thought you were someone else," he explained, pokerfaced, staring at the man square in the face.

"What's up with you, _fag_?" the man asked him irately before turning away and resuming his pace.

A vein twitched at the back of the Viper's head. He too turned and went back to his previous post. _Nanjirou, you sit in your office while I do all the dirty work_, he thought as he leaned back onto the wall again. _This is harder than you think, you asshole.

* * *

_

Prince threw another rock into the unmoving stream, watching it with imperturbable eyes as it skipped off the surface, breaking the reflection of the clouds above. He didn't take his gaze off the small stone as it sank towards the unseen bottom of the water.

He placed his hands coolly in the pocket of his faded jeans. He couldn't help but feel betrayed. He felt maddened at himself for doing something so gullible. No, it wasn't gullible. It was comical.

It was a good thing he could move fast. He heard the sirens when they were just a minute away from where he had been.

_She actually went to the police, that bitch_, he thought crossly. Prince didn't have the guts to refuse that he felt dismayed at his own weakness. He now fully realized that in this kind of life he was living, you can't trust anyone. You can only work for and count on yourself and no one else. The vindictiveness of reality sank into him just like how the rock sank into the waters. Slowly but with acceptance.

He laughed mentally, at his miserable situation and at himself. It was all too ironic. _You should've finished her off when you had the chance, you idiot_, he scolded himself as he clenched his fists inside his pockets. _Because of your stupidity, you've lost everything you've got, for the second time around_.

As the sirens grew louder and came nearer, all he could do was put on his clothes and leave without being seen. He even left the notebook he had worked so hard on.

_That's life_.

_Maybe it's all part of a bigger plan._

Prince thought she had understood everything. She had fooled him with those beautiful brown eyes filled with false concern. He sneered at it. But he wasn't hurting at all, no. His type of person should never feel hurt. He was mad. Madder than he had ever felt in this lifetime. It was even nauseating.

_I have to get out of here_, he thought. _They're onto me now; I have to go to a place where they can't find me. I have to move inland—_

There were footsteps behind him, he heard, jerking awake from his torpor. It was just one person, he knew, judging from the sound of it. Whoever it was just stood a couple of meters away. _Damn it_. He couldn't bail now, thinking of the probability that the person behind him might be armed. Slowly, he turned around.

He felt like the wind was knocked out of him.

It was her, looking every bit of how he remembered her to be. Long, brown hair. She was even wearing the same coat. Her slender figure was perfect. But her eyes were betraying something different. He couldn't read it — he didn't want to. He didn't _dare_ to.

_All that beauty is just a sham façade. It's not real. What a shame._

It was like fire was lit inside him. It wasn't the same fire that glowed when he had thought of her last night before he drifted off to sleep. The fire was angry, cracking, and without-a-doubt dangerous. And he just stood there, as rigid and as cold as ice, as she looked at him with those eyes that he never wanted to see again.

Prince was caught off guard as she ran towards him. He even half-expected the cops to be tailing closely behind her. But there was no one else. The strange thing was that he couldn't move from where he was as he watched her come closer. He felt hatred he had never felt before but he didn't do anything to avoid it.

She closed in and threw her arms around his neck in an embrace. He could hear her sobbing violently against his chest.

"Prince..." she whispered.

* * *

Author's note: There! That chapter was considerably shorter that the others so I threw in a cute little cliffhanger for you all. :) Hope you guys like it. :D I've all the chapters lined up and this story stretches hopefully to the tenth if all goes well. Lol. :) So there. Forgive my typos. :) Review please:D I'm still open for comments, suggestions, and hate mail (if there are any). Happy, Happy New Year. :D Coming up: _Chapter six - Perfect_. 


	7. CHAPTER SIX: Perfect

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: HAPPY 2008 EVERYONE:D So there, the fireworks were just beautiful. Lol. And people are making such a ruckus outside. :D Hope you guys had a wonderful New Year's celebration. May this year be more... productive than the last one. :)

Again, thank you for the nice reviews. :D _drearymoments_: Yeah, it's kind of hard. Lol. Back-to-the-drawing-board hard. :) But it's kind of fun as well. :D _Eternal.Angel_: Thanks for the advice. :D Actually, I wanted to do a slower update, but I have to finish this story before school starts since everything would be hectic again. :) I have one week more. :D (gulp) Again, thanks. :D

**CHAPTER SIX**

Perfect

Detective Inui pushed his black-rimmed glasses further up his nose. He then edged his face closer to the evidence bag that was held with gloved hands before his eyes by one of the assigned officers. Inside the Ziploc was an old-looking, brown, leather bound business planner. The detective began scribbling down his own notebook.

"Binder..." he thought aloud. "...Possibly two and a half years old, made of rattlesnake skin... Possibility of ownership is about 98.4 per—"

"Hey Inui!" Kawamura yelled from inside the dirty, rundown garage. He wasn't holding a baton but the detective could tell that he more pumped up than his normal self. "Put that thing down for a sec! I need you in here!"

Smoothly, he closed his notepad and tucked the pen safely in his breast pocket as he made his way from the parked police car and through the door. He immediately spotted Kawamura bent over the sink, looking for any clues. "What is it?" he asked the fussy officer.

"Don't give me that, Inui," he shot back as he straightened up and looked at the detective with inquiring eyes. "So, what do you think?" He waved a hand across the cramped area.

Inui swept the entire room with his analyzing gaze. _Floor area is about 144 square feet_, he thought. The room was originally a one-car garage — the walls were ghastly and unpainted with cracks creeping like veins from every direction, and even without the rain, the roof leaked, probably because of faulty plumbing. On the far left stood an improvised bed, possibly made out of spare wood. Beside it was a termite-eaten nightstand. There were no other appliances except a rusty lamp. A small table was a few feet away from it.

A couple of officers were checking the room for anything that might be of importance to the case. When they had discovered that the thief had bailed, Kawamura dismissed the others, leaving the investigative team behind to gather clues.

Kawamura looked at Inui for answers. "Well?" he asked the quiet detective with a hint of impatience.

"He's a smart one," Inui replied as he took out his loyal pen and notebook and started recording what was necessary. "He didn't leave any of his personal things behind, probably even disposed of it," he added. _He knew that we could extract his fingerprint, even his DNA, from the smallest strand of hair or skin_, Inui thought.

Running his hand through his face, the officer scanned the surroundings. "Well, yeah, we can tell that much," he said with remorse. "Looks like he left long before we got here."

Detective Inui narrowed his eyes that no one could see. "I told you we shouldn't have used the siren," he told Kawamura. "With that 124-decibel sound, everyone within a five-mile radius could hear us."

"Hey—!" Kawamura retorted.

"But, never mind that," Inui cut him short. "What we have to figure out is how we're going to get a hold of this guy." He began flipping through his notepad and tapping the end of his pen on his chin.

Kawamura exhaled, and then looked back at Inui. "And how are we going to go that?" he asked, not expecting the immediate and accurate answer the detective usually gave. And he was right.

Inui closed his notebook. "I have no idea."

* * *

"Prince..." she whispered.

Sakuno just stayed in her position, her arms around his neck, her face wet with unexplainable tears, buried in his chest. She like her whole body was about to give away when she heard about the report and how it was remarkably accurate. _Thank God_._ Good thing I took the short cut, or else I wouldn't have seen him..._

"I-I though they g-got to you—" Her voice was muffled against his shirt as she tightened her embrace. At this point she wasn't aware of what she was doing. All Sakuno knew was he was here and he wasn't hurt. "Thank G-god—"

Prince could hear every word she said. He just didn't understand — he didn't want to. There was only one thing he could think of to say. "Don't touch me."

Sakuno froze. _What—? Oh, yeah, what am I doing?_ She pulled back, feeling a little embarrassed and looking at his eyes. She couldn't read the expression on his deadpan face. "I'm sorry," she said as wiped her tears on the jacket's sleeve. "I was just w-worried—"

Her sentence was cut short by a sudden movement from Prince. He had turned his back on him and was starting to walk in the opposite direction, towards a small pathway that she knew led to the train station. He didn't even say a word and she was left standing there, a little stunned. _Maybe I came a little too strong on him_—

"Prince, wait—!" Sakuno caught up with him and was now walking by his side. She took a good look at his face but it remained emotionless. "Where're you going?" she asked with worry. _Where on earth is he going to live now—?_ "The city's this way—" She tried to grab his wrist but he pulled it out of her fingers.

"Get out of my sight. You're an eyesore," he told her head-on as he continued to look straight forward.

Sakuno stopped in her tracks. She was beyond flabbergasted. _What the_— "What's your _deal_?" she asked him as he maintained his pace. Her mood swung from relief to rage. _Who does this guy think he is?_ "What did I ever do to _you_?"

Prince was the one who stopped now. Sakuno heard him jeer. He didn't even bother turning around. "I think I should be the one asking you that, _miss_," he shot back. The last word curled out of his tongue mockingly.

"_What?_" she said aloud. Sakuno was more confused than ever. _What's he trying to say?_ "Look, I don't know what happened with the police but I don't think you should be taking it out on me—"

"You have guts to say that." Prince slipped his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, back still on her. He was getting tired of all the talking.

Sakuno's eyes were wet with tears again, but of a different meaning. Whatever it was he wanted to say, she wished he would just say it to her face. _We haven't known each other that long but I can see something's not right here_. "And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked, clenching her fists in an attempt to regain control over herself.

Prince turned around. His piecing, yellow eyes fell on hers. It had an odd glint that Sakuno found very menacing. She could tell he was furious about something or someone. He then took a few steps towards her, making Sakuno want to back up instinctively with fear. She even anticipated him to draw out a knife of a gun.

But he didn't. Prince stopped when he was just a few inches away from Sakuno and closed in on her ear. His voice was low and dangerous. It was the same tone he had used on her that rainy night they first met. "Don't act dumb," he whispered, his breath was warm against her earlobe, but it froze her insides like winter air. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

A chill shot up her spine. _What—?_ she thought, alarmed. _What did I do?_

"This is twice I've lost everything," he said with resentment, his voice slightly shaking against her ear. "And now you're trying to wash your hands."

That was when it hit her. It was a hard, solid blow to the head. Disbelief spread across Sakuno's face as she pulled away and took steps back. Incredulously, she looked at him. Her lips shook with anger as she spoke, the sudden realization sinking into her. _Bastard_. "You _actually_ think I ran to _them_?"

Prince snorted with disgust. "Took you long enough," he said, his gaze betraying that of sheer loathing. "Or are you still playing games with me, _miss_?" His voice was as poisonous as snake venom.

_You asshole. _"I don't _believe_ it," she spat, nails digging into her palms painfully. Sakuno didn't care. She could barely feel it over the emotions spurring inside her being. "I gave you my word, you _idiot_! What kind of _lowlife_ person do you think I am?" Tears started falling down face again.

Prince was taken by surprise — his eyes showed it. He watched the outraged woman crying in front of him and knew instantly that he had made a big mistake. It felt like the ground under his feet crumbled and fell away. Her eyes were clouded with tears but that didn't impair his vision of seeing through other people's true intentions.

And from what he can see is pure honesty and furious disbelief. At that moment, he desperately wanted to withdraw everything that came out of his mouth. Even when he knew he couldn't. He had said it to her anyway.

"I came here a-all the way from the c-city just to look f-for you!" she said between sobs, her eyes bloodshot, her brown hair falling messily down her shoulders. Sakuno wiped her tears on the end of her sleeve. She was a little overreacting but she couldn't care less. "Do you have any idea w-what I went through ever s-since I met you—?"

Prince had no idea what was coming next. He barely even listened to the woman as she spilled her guts to him. But for some mysterious reason, he felt considerably lighter. There was small smile hiding behind his lips for the first time in days. He couldn't find the words to say. _So she didn't_—

"My ch-chances on becoming a-an Editor-in-Chief is at s-stake because I'm here—" Sakuno continued, looking miserable with every word. _You're the biggest loser this side of town has ever seen_. "—and I'm scared as _shit_ to finish my p-promotional report on you b-because I know it w-would g-give you away!"

_So she didn't work for the police, just the paper_—

Sakuno stood up straight and brushed the rest of her tears with a hand. Apparently, she couldn't or didn't want to say anything else and looked down at her feet. She remained like this for a few more moments before fixing her gaze back at Prince. "What're you looking at?" Her voice still cracked. She then quickly turned her gaze away.

_She looks cuter that way_, Prince thought, looking at Sakuno with an illegible expression on his face. "You look really miserable, you know," he said plainly as he took a few steps closer to her.

"W-what—?" she began, feeling her ebbing anger returning, but she was cut short. Sakuno nearly gasped for air, too surprised to react.

Prince closed in and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He could feel the warmth of her soft body as he tightened the embrace, resting his cheek against hers. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't even know why. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her neck, fists clenched.

Sakuno blushed, her hear beating faster but soon slowing down to its normal pace as her body adjusted to his. _This feels nice_. Hesitantly, she lifted her own arms and encircled them around his body. She then buried herself into his shoulder, getting lost in his presence. Butterflies were pleasantly fluttering in her stomach. Sakuno felt a sense of security — like nothing bad would ever happen to her — if she was in his arms like this.

_He's perfect_.

He was a criminal, she knew. And he was the only thing keeping her from the one thing she ever wanted — the only thing she ever felt she needed to complete her life. But that seem trivial as she stood there in the most breathtaking embrace she had ever gotten. For now, she chose not to think about the inevitable consequences. It would ruin the beautiful moment.

"It's okay," she said.

* * *

"You called for me, Mr. Echizen."

Nanjirou quickly threw what he was reading out the window in panic. He watched it as it flapped against the wind and hit the grass outside his office. _Damn it. I'll just ask Nanako to get it for me_. He faced his chair towards the man standing in front of his table and cleared out his throat. "Yes, I did, Mr. Fuji," he answered, attempting to look calm.

Fuji's eyes were perpetually closed but his lips were always pressed in a smile. His gray suit was otherwise very dull. "What is it that you need for me to do?" he asked in his very feminine tone.

Nanjirou placed his elbow on the desk and propped his chin on his hand. He pursed his lips in a very childish manner. "I want you to cancel all our contracts with that big-headed tennis player from Germany," he said.

Brows furrowed, his adviser asked unsurely, "Mr. Arnold Ignashov, sir?"

He nodded with a wide grin.

"But, why sir?" asked Fuji, taking out his Blueberry and noting what Nanjiro had ordered him. "Our tennis racket sales have gone up since he became our official model and advertiser—"

"I don't care," Nanjirou cut him short as he tapped his fingers on the untidy desk of his. _He's a bastard_. "I think we should start taking in models from our very own Japan. Just because he's German doesn't mean he's better."

Fuji beamed. "Actually, that's a great idea, Mr. Echizen. I'll get on to it right away." he agreed. "Oh, and also, your wife would like me to ask you what you wanted for dinner."

Nanjirou raised an eyebrow. It was weird having his business adviser telling him what his wife wanted to say. He shrugged mentally. "Tell Rinko I'll eat anything she cooks," he said dismissively, waving a hand at Fuji. "You may go now."

His adviser gave a low bow before disappearing behind the double doors, leaving Nanjirou behind with his thoughts. And his FHM magazines. _Damn, I almost forgot_. He pressed the button on the receiver at the corner of his worktable. "Nanako?" he spoke to it.

"_Yes,_" she replied instantly. "_I got your magazine_," she said, already knowing what Nanjiro was looking for. "_I just got home from a meeting and saw it lying on the lawn._"

His shoulders sagged with relief. "_Arigatou, Nanako-chan. Gomen-nasai_," he said. "Please don't tell Rinko. She'll have my head for this again."

"_Daijoubu_, Uncle," Nanako said. "_Betsuni._"

Nanjirou hung up and sat back on his tall, rotating office chair and placed his hands behind his head coolly. Almost immediately, his phone rang, shattering the silence. _Can't a guy get a little peace and quiet_—? He grabbed the racket-making appliance and answered the call.

"This is Nanjirou Echizen," he said a little forcefully than he had intended. _Please let it not be that German guy. Damn this thing for not having a caller ID—_

There was a hiss from the other line. He recognized it in an instant.

"Ah, Viper," Nanjirou said, his voice imperturbable. "I thought you took off," he added jokingly. But the Viper didn't seem to get it. He skipped to the vital matter. "Where are you?"

A couple of moments passed before the man on the line replied. "_I'm in the L.A. County, twenty miles from downtown,_" he said, probably estimating his location.

Nanjirou closed his eyes, feeling a little sleepy. _Los Angeles, huh?_ "Okay," he confirmed. "And what have you got for me? Leads? Sightings?"

The reception was murky. The Viper was probably somewhere with strong winds. He could barely make out what he was saying. "_I've found him_," he said.

Nanjirou opened his eyes. He was now gazing at the ceiling. A grin spread across his lips. _Bingo._ "There's a problem, is there?" he assumed, judging from the man's tone of voice.

"_There's a girl_," the Viper said.

The CEO nearly jumped out of his seat in delight. Nanjirou sat up straight, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. "_Hontou?_" he asked like how a little boy would ask his mother about a birthday present. His mischievousness returned to get the best of him. "What's she like? Blonde, brunette? Tall or short? Is she pretty? Do they look good together? Tell me!" he insisted.

The Viper was silent for a couple more seconds. It was like he was trying to find the right response. "_That's beside the point, Nanjirou_," he said seriously.

Nanjirou raised his eyebrow again, impishness ebbing away. "What's wrong?" he asked, not knowing what the Viper had to say. "Can't you just take him in? It's fine if he brings home a chick—"

"_That's the thing_," the Viper said, his voice betraying uncertainty. "_I don't think taking him back in would be that easy this time._"

Eyebrow further shooting upward, the CEO pressed on. "What is it?" he asked as he sensed that he shouldn't take this matter as lightly as he had planned.

"_Ryoma doesn't seem to remember anything, Nanjirou_."

* * *

Author's note: Ahem. I am at a loss for words. I think I might've written too much. Lol. Kidding. Anyway, hope you like it. I'm getting a lot of hits on this story so I'm kind of inspired. THANK YOU! (hug) :D Oh, and I just couldn't resist not putting in Kaidoh in this little story of mine. His character's just so adorable (in a puppy dog sense, not in a cutie/hottie way, might I add). So there. Forgive me for the typos. :D Coming up: _Chapter seven – Betrayal_. 


	8. CHAPTER SEVEN: Betrayal

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: I have a pimple on my chin. Okay, I'm not gonna act like someone from Sweet Valley High and freak out, but... (insert angry scream here). _Eternal.Angel_: Thanks for pointing that out. "_Bet(s)uni_." :D And don't worry. I won't be using Japanese anymore (if I can help it). I think I'm better off writing in English anyway. Lol. :D _SoreNoMiko_: Thank you. I especially love Nanjirou's character in POT. He's just so adorable. :D _FujixSaku0709_: Yes, I especially put Fuji there because I checked your profile and saw that you really like him. :D Consider it a New Year's treat from yours truly. Lol. :) _PureEssence_ & _TorogiAstig_: Thank you for the wonderful reviews and the love for this fic. I appreciate it so much. :D (hug)

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Betrayal

Tomoka Osakada pushed the glass door open and stepped into the coffee shop, letting the friendly scent of freshly ground beans fill her nostrils. It was as good as drinking coffee itself, she had always thought. _Too bad I can't stay long_...

She scanned the tables and sofas for a familiar sight, but only to her dismay. All Tomoka saw were a few regular customers she knew by face, but not personally. She puckered her lips, clearly annoyed, and placed her hands on her hips. _Shit_—

"Hey, Tomoka," a voice came from behind the cash register. Eiji Kikumaru suddenly popped up from behind it with a cat-like grin on his face. "How's your night?" he asked her.

"Eiji, thank God," Tomoka said as she half-ran to the cashier. She slammed her palms down on the countertop, making some of the customers whirl their heads around. _I know she was here. _"Did Sakuno happen to drop by?"

Placing an order onto a tray, Eiji gave a nod. "Yeah, she was here this morning," he said as he rung the small bell beside the cash register. He read the order from the receipt he was holding. "Vanilla latte for '_Kevin_'?" he called.

A blonde man came up and took his tray. "Thanks," he muttered. Eiji nodded with a smile.

"Do you know where she went?" Tomoka asked; her persistence was overwhelming. _Where have you gone off to, Sakuno?_ She became more worried. "She walked out of work today. We haven't seen her since."

Eiji looked concerned. "Come to think of it, she wasn't her usual self this morning," he said. "She ordered three _mochacinnos_," he told Tomoka. "Probably thought she could get drunk by drinking caffeine."

_I knew it. Something's bothering her. _She pressed on. "Where is she now?"

The waiter shrugged. "I've no idea," he answered the columnist honestly. He felt like he was being interviewed for the paper. "After her third order she just disappeared without a word." He took out a rug from his apron and wiped the countertop clean.

Tomoka swore. What Sakuno was doing was so unlike her. She let out a frustrated sigh and let her arms drop to her sides. "Thanks, Eiji," she said, looking anxious with the passing moment. "I'm just worried. Especially with that asshole of a thug running around the city."

"Yeah, I've heard about that," he said as he placed his finger on his chin and looked up the ceiling. The gesture was so Eiji-ish. "I wonder why the _Times_ hasn't even posted anything about it. The tabloids are all about it."

_That's because we can't get a hold of the one who's supposed to be writing about that bastard._ "I'm gonna go look for her," she said as she turned around and headed for the door. "Thanks again, Eiji," she said, waving a hand to the man behind the counter.

"No problem," he replied.

Tomoka pulled the heavy, glass door and stepped out of _The Coffee Grinder_. The sound of nighttime city life sounded alien to her ears after adjusting to the quiet ambience inside. Even the streets were still crowded with people and cars, all wishing to get to their destination as quickly as possible. The intersection was as busy as ever.

_Damn it, Sakuno_, she thought, getting lost in her head. _Your phone's dead, you aren't in your apartment, you're not in the coffee place — where are you? It's not safe wandering around on your own not when that thief is—_

She started walking towards the corner of 22nd and 5th. It was the place where she could easily get a cab. Tomoka wanted to go home and rest for the night. It was only a little past six o'clock but her head felt like it was filled with too many thoughts for her to handle. She was starting to get a very painful migraine.

_Miss Shiba is going to have our heads on a silver platter for this. I have two more articles to finish by Monday and Sakuno's nowhere to be seen. And her deadline's tomorrow,_ she thought distractedly, stopping at the less crowded street corner.

Tomoka raised her hand when she spotted a taxi heading in her direction, headlights on high. _Please be, empty, please_... she prayed. But her hopes fell when she made out two shadowy figures in the back seat. It was occupied, apparently, and it wasn't going fast since traffic was bad. When it drove past her, she caught a glimpse of the woman sitting beside the car window.

It was like she was hit by the taxi itself.

_Sakuno?_

She didn't know what to think. Her best friend was with someone but she couldn't make it out in the dark. Tomoka's anxiety turned into suspicion that made her want to find out what was going on. 'Reporter instinct' was what she and Sakuno called it. She raised her hand as she spotted another yellow taxi. It was unoccupied and it slowed down to a halt in front of her. Tomoka popped the back door open and went inside. She then hurriedly shut it behind her.

The man craned his head to look at Tomoka. There was a glass window that separated the passenger from the driver. "Where to, miss?"

Tomoka gazed through the windshield and into the taxi she saw earlier. It was around five or so meters away. She could even see the top of their heads silhouetted against the window. They could still catch up.

Her eyes glinted. She had always wanted to say this line.

"Follow that cab."

* * *

Sakuno rang the bell on the countertop. "Hello?" she called, looking around the welcoming yet modest reception area. The three-star hotel was slightly remote and was around twenty minutes away from the city, just as far as was necessary. But it was risky, nevertheless. She didn't know what else to do.

Prince was behind her. He was unmoving as he always was, hands inside pockets, his dark, rugged coat reflecting his mysteriousness. But she could feel him getting restless even when he didn't show it. Sakuno felt the same kind of uneasiness gnaw at the pit of her stomach. The burden grew heavier with every passing moment.

_This is bad_, she thought as panic slowly sank into her. _What if the police already knew what he looked like? They know where he's been hiding. It's possible that they released his picture to the public..._ Sakuno was giving everything a run through, her mind running in autopilot. _It's just a small possibility... Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all..._

_I can't take him to my place_. She frowned at their desperate situation. It was like she was stuck in an illusion where she can't think the way she used to. _He can't obviously go back to this place either. We have to lie as low as possible._ Sakuno knew he needed somewhere to stay for now while they work out a smooth and clean plan for his escape—

_Escape?_ an angry voice in her head repeated. _You're actually thinking of helping him escape? Are you crazy_—

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Prince asked, pokerfaced. He took the words right out of her mouth. His tone was quiet, as though preventing anyone from eavesdropping.

Sakuno turned to face him. He remained still. She knew what he was feeling, being seen in a public place like this. They were gambling his freedom just by standing here. "It's the only plan we have," she explained with a whisper, trying to convince her own self as well.

"Since when did you become part of this?" he asked in a low voice.

She felt that she wasn't going to like what he was about to say next. _This isn't the time or the place._ "Look, I don't wanna pick a fight with you now," she said a little defensively. "But first we need to get you a plan—"

"I don't need a plan, _damn it_, I can just bail right now—"

Sakuno noticed the impatience in the way he talked. She was growing a little impatient herself. His eyes had that dangerous edge to it again. "And then where'll you go?" she asked, daring him to answer. "Do you have any idea—"

"Good evening."

Sakuno whirled around and looked at a small entryway a few feet from where they were. She hadn't noticed it before. A tall man in a pressed, brown suit came in and stood behind the counter. His hair was short, shaved close to his head, except for a few longer strands that fell on his forehead.

He smiled at them. "I'm sorry for the wait, sir and madam," he apologized courteously, adjusting his tie. "I'm just taking my cousin's post and I just got back from my other job," he explained as he turned the computer behind the countertop. He then looked up at the two. "Welcome to _Tuesday Morning_ Bed and Breakfast," he greeted formally. "I'm Shuichiro, the receptionist. How may I help you?"

With a constrained smile, Sakuno edge a little closer the reception desk. "Uhm, yeah," she answered hesitantly. "We need a place to stay for the next couple of days."

"Okay, lemme check," Shuichiro said as he tapped the keyboard of the computer. Sakuno shifted uncomfortably. "You're in luck," he said, looking up after a couple of seconds. "We have an available room. It's equipped with a queen-sized bed, nightstand and table, and its very own washroom—"

"It's fine. We'll take it," Prince said without a second thought. The young receptionist looked slightly surprised at the immediate answer. Sakuno rolled her eyes with exasperation at Prince.

Shuichiro chuckled. "Alright, alright," he answered with a smile. "Will that be _Visa_ or _MasterCard_?" he asked Sakuno, who started fumbling her bag for her wallet.

She almost slammed the credit card and her driver's license on the countertop in panic. _Just give us the damn key already._ She forced a laughed, embarrassed, when she saw Shuichiro jerk with surprise. "I'm sorry," she said. "That'll be _Visa_."

Prince scoffed, but she chose not to show any sign of annoyance.

The receptionist compared the photos on the two picture IDs and looked at Sakuno twice before he returned the driver's license and slid the credit card into the small calculator-like machine. Shuichiro then handed her back the plastic money and placed a small LCD screen on top of the desk along with the key.

"Just sign here," he said, indicating the small contraption. "Your room number is 25. That's on the second floor, the third door on your left once you step out the elevator," he said politely. "The elevator's this way." He directed his hand to his left.

Sakuno grabbed the stylus and scribbled her signature on the screen. She then took the keys and headed towards the end of the hall where the receptionist had indicated earlier. Prince walked behind her, not making a sound. Apparently, he didn't want to make a scene till they reached their room.

She pressed the call button once they got to the lift and slipped her hand inside the pocket of her coat. Sakuno crossed her fingers.

_What am I doing?

* * *

_

Tomoka asked the cab driver, who was now asleep, slumped against the steering wheel, to park in the shadows. At first, he refused to play any part in her plan, but it was nothing money couldn't handle. She had shoved him a week's worth of her pay just to convince him to stay with her. Tomoka needed a car just in case. The place wasn't rundown but it wasn't as full of activity as downtown and she doubted that it was part of taxi routes. She'd be stuck if the cab had left.

It was a little over an hour now after Sakuno and that man clad in a black jacket went inside the _Tuesday Morning_ Motel, but her suspicion was still at its peak. She wasn't about to give up now, not when she had come this far. Checking in was out of the question since it would most probably give everything away. Sakuno didn't need to know that she was there anyway.

As precisely as her thoughts could allow, she played the part when they stepped out of the taxi in her head over and over again. It _was_ Sakuno, she can confirm even at a distance. She had known the woman since they were in middle school. It was quite impossible to miss her even in the darkness.

The man she was with was what bothered her though. Tomoka only caught a glimpse of his face under the street lamp as he turned around to help Sakuno out of the cab. It was quick, but the angle was enough for her to have an idea of what he looked like up close. He was a good-looking man, she could tell. Honestly, he was breath-taking.

But something about him was very, very familiar.

Tomoka gave it a thought. Her eyes were sharp, but her memory was sharper. It was one of the reasons why she chose to become a journalist, with her impeccable ability to remember almost everything she had seen, heard, or read. It was also why she was the main source of gossip at work.

_Where have I seen him before?_

His hair was black, or dark-green, or both. His eyes... They were yellow, like a hawk's. His built was normal, yet slender, for a man his age, around early or mid-twenties. She could even say that the man's features were slightly Asian — Chinese or Japanese—

Realization hit her for the second time tonight. This time, it was harder. And it didn't sink in as fast as when she saw Sakuno inside the taxi.

_No way._

Tomoka's jaws dropped open. It was like getting run over by a big, yellow school bus.

_There was no way in this effing world that he could be—_

With trembling fingers, she grabbed the file envelope she took with her from work. It had the important papers and notes she needed to complete her columns before their respective deadlines. It also had copies the most recent articles she had authored.

She remembered the story Miss Shiba had asked her to finish. And she did. Tomoka was thankful that she was given this story. It was only now that she realized its full significance.

Dumping everything on the empty seat next to her, she frantically searched through it contents, forgetting the fact that it took her forever to organize every page. Paper of all shapes and sizes flew everywhere as she dug into them until she found what she was looking for.

She read the title aloud. "'_Heir, Missing Without a Trace _by Sakuno Ryuuzaki and Tomoka Osakada'." Her voice was barely a whisper. It even shuddered a little.

Tomoka eyed the four-by-six picture held by a paperclip on the top-right corner of the article. According to her source, it was taken just a few days before the alleged disappearance. It was the first time the "prince" was caught by a paparazzi camera she recalled. He was wearing a crisp, black coat and tie and he was a little more clean-shaven, but there was no doubt about it.

It was him.

"Oh, my God," she gasped, a hand shooting up to cover her shaking lips. _What do I do?_ "Oh, my God... Oh, my God..." _Sakuno, what are you doing—?_ _Shit, I have to tell someone—I can just let this go like this—She might get into—_

Hysterically, Tomoka took out her cell phone from her bag and flipped it open. _I don't know what you're up to, Sakuno, but this is something the Police should handle. The guy may be an heir, but God knows your life could be at stake—_ She searched for LAPD's hotline and dialed it.

A man answered after three rings. "_Good evening. You've reached the main office of the LAPD_," the voice confirmed.

She recognized it at an instant. "O-officer Kawamura?" Tomoka said with hesitation. Her hand was as cold as ice.

"_Hey, Miss Osakada_," the officer replied, his voice loosing all its formality when he found out who she was. "_Why, is there something wrong?_" he asked.

_Actually, 'wrong' is an understatement in this situation. _"Y-yes," she said into the receiver. She was panicking. "It's S-Sakuno."

"_What about Miss Ryuuzaki?_" the man on the other line asked, slightly alarmed. "_Where is she?_"

Tomoka let out a sigh in an attempt to calm herself down. But it didn't help her at all. "I think sh-she's in trouble."

* * *

"We're in deep shit, you know that," Prince told Sakuno the moment he had closed the door behind them. He tried to conceal the anger and frustration building up inside him but he couldn't. This woman was too stubborn to understand.

Sakuno sat down at the edge of the bed. She threw her hair back, away from her face, in obvious annoyance. "Don't you think I know?" she asked, looking up at him.

"You shouldn't have done this," he tried saying it to her in the calmest tone. "I don't care where I end up once I go. The only thing I have to do is get the _hell_ out of here before the cops find me—"

_I don't want you to get involved in this_.

Sakuno stood up. "Then _what_?" she asked, clearly upset. Her voice cracked like it always did before she cried. "Once you're out-of-state, what're you gonna do? Go back to your old self again?"

_Damn it, she isn't gonna give in. _He shouldn't be here in the first place. Coming here with her was a big mistake. "What do you _mean_ 'old self'?" he asked her, taking a step closer and looking at her brown eyes lined with tears. "I am still a _criminal_, and you shouldn't even be helping me at all—"

But he wouldn't — couldn't — tell her that it felt like a stab to his chest whenever he saw like this. Pleading, crying, and shaking, all in her fragile body. He watched her in her desperation as she looked back at him with those determined eyes. And there it was. Tears freely retracing their way down her pink cheeks.

He wanted to touch her face and brush them away. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and comfort her. He wanted to whisper words in her ear that would take her breath away. He wanted to tell her that everything would be alright after he went away. He wanted to tell her that she deserved a better man, and that he—

Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his hair. _Why do I even care at all? I should be running away right now_—

"I know that!" she half-yelled. "I j-just didn't want you leaving w-without knowing what to d-do!" she explained to him desperately. "What would happen to you if you l-left not knowing where y-you'll end up in—?" It was like all her pent up emotions were flooding out of her.

Prince didn't know what to do. He was confused than he had ever been as he looked at her trembling body. She suddenly looked so delicate to him. He couldn't remember if he had seen another woman in this situation in his forgotten past, but he wished that he didn't have to see her again like this. It was agonizing.

_You've only known this woman for two days_, a voice in his head scolded him. _What the hell are you doing? She cares for you obviously, but maybe that's just because you let her go before—_

He was well aware that he could leave right now if he wanted to. The door was just a few steps away from him. He knew that the longer his stay here, the more risk he was bringing to her and to himself. It would've been so easy to just walk out of this room and flee, but he couldn't. Prince couldn't leave this woman, not like this. He was a convict, but deep inside he knew he wasn't that cruel.

He let out a sigh. Then he remembered. Prince scoffed at himself. She might hate him for asking her a question like this at this circumstance, but he wanted to know. "What's your name?" he asked.

Sakuno looked up with a look of disbelief on her face. It was expected. She looked away as soon as her eyes met his. "S-Sakuno," she said softly. "Sakuno Ryuuzaki."

_Sakuno_. It was music to his ears. The walls that he had put around him crumbled instantly when she answered him.

He couldn't take it anymore. _Just calm her down and explain, then you can leave. You can't do this to her anymore._

Prince stepped closer to her and cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. And she did, her brown eyes bloodshot and strands of her equally brown hair sticking to her face. But she couldn't look as beautiful to him as she did now. He tucked her hair behind her head and kissed her between the eyes. Her eyelids fluttered close. It seemed to quiet her down a bit.

"I'm sorry, Sakuno," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his forehead against hers. It was the only thing he could manage to say. He felt her as she lifted her arms and linked them around his torso. Prince pressed his body gently against hers. She was soft and warm. "I'm sorry."

Sakuno pulled back a little and gaze at him, a little cross-eyed, lips slightly open. Her face was shining with tears. "Please," she begged him, clutching the fabric on his back tightly, as if letting go would kill her. "Please—"

A lot of women had said this word to him. But it didn't affect him like when she had finally said it. He suddenly felt its full effect and understood it with every bit of his being. He found it hard to refuse her.

He lightly brushed his thumb on her cheek, wiping her tears away. Prince kissed her eyes closed before tracing a finger on her puffed lips. Her eyes were heartbreaking as Sakuno opened them to look at him. He saw that they bore resignation, like she was trying to tell him that she didn't care who he was and what he did.

And that all she knew was this.

Prince's thought were vague. It was as though he was incapable of thinking straight. But as he looked at the woman in front of him, everything became crystal clear. A final thought surfaced from the depths of his mind as he brought her face closer to his. But he couldn't care less.

_I'm going to regret this._

He closed his eyes as her lips met his. The feeling was intoxicating, like a drug. Prince felt Sakuno's body giving in to the wonderful sensation and pressing all her weight onto him. He tightened his arms around her small body for support. He never wanted to let her go. She was sweet. She was beautiful. She was perfect.

_I'm sorry._

Prince ended their kiss as he pulled back. He then rested his cheek against hers. He wanted to stay like this forever. But he knew he couldn't. _Sakuno._ Her name echoed with every arduous beat of his heart. _Sakuno. Sakuno. Sakuno._ It was calling out to her. She was the only thing she knew was right. This moment, their kiss, her. Everything felt right for once.

"P-please," she said again. Sakuno's voice told him that it took her all her strength talk. He didn't want to see her in pain. He couldn't even bare to look at her. "Please d-don't leave me—" she begged, her tears falling from her eyes and onto his own cheek. It was another pang in his chest.

Prince didn't want to hear her say this. He felt as though he was one of his victims when he had cornered them at night. There was nowhere to run to. There was nowhere to go. He even felt helpless. As helpless as when he awoke that one rainy night when he didn't where and who he was.

Despite forgetting his past, he would remember that for the rest of his life. He doubted he would ever forget it even if he got his memories back.

He was scared. Very scared. The darkness was eating every bit of him as he curled up against the corner of an abandoned alleyway. He wasn't alone though. There were footsteps, coming closer, closer, and closer. It echoed against the walls, inside his head. Every part of him was in pain. There was blood on his hands, and he knew it was his own.

The figures came and he thought it was the end of him. But they didn't do anything to harm him, no. They took him in when he knew no one else would. He didn't have a past, nor a future — he was nobody, but they had helped him, put clothes on his back, a roof over his head, and taught him their ways. It was from them that he had learned everything he knew now.

They even gave the name he goes by now — Prince.

But he didn't know that person anymore. The man who didn't have mercy in front of helpless victims, the one who always escaped the clutches of justice, the person who was the most sought-after felon in the city, the one whose hands had taken away what wasn't rightfully his...

It all seemed so far away now.

All he could think of was the woman in his arms. The sweetness of her voice, the warmth of her flesh, the scent of her being. Sakuno was the only person he knew in this world who cared about him this way.

No, he couldn't leave her. Not tonight.

"Don't worry," he whispered into her ear softly. "I won't."

* * *

Kawamura dialed and pressed the phone against his ear. _This guy is going to kill me if everything's a false alarm._ It started to ring. He tapped his fingers on his desk anxiously. The man answered after two rounds.

A hiss greeted him from the other line and he knew he had gotten the right phone number. "Kaidoh," he said into the receiver. "This is Kawamura from the LAPD."

"_Kawamura_," the Viper said, his voice low and droning. "_What is it?_" he asked.

The officer sucked in air before he answered, palms sweaty, breathing heavy. He was preparing for a blow. _I hope this is the right one. _"I think I have your man," he said.

* * *

Author's note: WOW. Okay, I'm taking back what I said in chapter four. _This_ is the hardest one to write. I put in blood, sweat, and tears as I wrote this chapter so I hope you guys liked it. :D You can stop holding your breaths now. Lol. Yep, that was the main climax. :) So there, reviews please. I want to know your opinions on this chapter. Was it good or bad, or just "okay"? I'd like to hear from you guys. Forgive the typos yet again. I'm not wearing my contacts. :) HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE:D 


	9. CHAPTER EIGHT: Stolen

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: I have a new puppy! She's so lovable. :D Anyways, the site's experiencing problems, I presume. (sigh) I can't leave reviews since it always ends up in an error page when I submit. Dang it. :\ So there, things start spilling out in this chapter. I hope it doesn't bore you guys out. I'm gonna cut the talking. Read on. :D

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Stolen

"_I think I have your man._"

The Viper was silent, making the man on the other line feel perturbed, he could tell with his razor-sharp senses. It was another couple of seconds before he replied. "I know he's alive, Kawamura," he said plainly. "I just saw him a few hours ago."

Kawamura was stuttering. _He didn't expect this reaction. "You d-did?_" he asked. "_They why didn't you—?_"

The Viper cut him off. "I think it's your job to make sure it's him," he said, though he was aware that it was Ryoma Echizen that he had seen beside the creek yesterday at late afternoon. It was just his idea of fun to manipulate the officer on the other line.

Although he was certain that it was him, The Viper had set Nanjirou Echizen's son free for one more day out of orders given by the big boss, telling him to 'let his son have fun with his girl before we break it to him.'

It was an immature request that only Nanjirou could ask for. In his opinion, he would've bagged the son the moment he had spotted him. Yet, it was still an order by one of the most powerful CEOs in Japan. It was as mandatory as instructions given out by the President of the country. The Viper could not refuse.

Today was the day.

"_We are _positive_ that it _is_ him_," he said. "_But the thing is..._" He trailed of uncertainly.

Growing intolerant, the Viper gave another threatening hiss. "Get to the point," he ordered. "I don't have time for chit-chat."

He heard the officer sigh against the receiver. "_W-we don't actually have him yet—_"

"If that's the case then why don't you—"

Kawamura interjected. "_But we can confirm that he's staying in a small hotel not far from the city proper_," he said. "_He just checked in last night._"

"Then why didn't you tell me sooner?" The question was threatening. He could imagine the officer cringing at that very moment.

Kawamura sounded scared but determined. "_We wanted to verify that it was him_," he told him. "_So we assigned the LAPD's computer experts to hack into the hidden camera system of the hotel. They were able to recover a few screenshots. I sent the jpegs to your phone a few seconds ago._"

The Viper withdrew the mobile unit from his ear and saw that he had indeed received an e-mail. He opened the message and chose an option that allowed him to see the pictures in full-screen. It was him. The officer had done right for once.

Replacing the speaker back to his ear, the Viper hissed. "Well done, Kawamura," he said to the officer. "Mr. Echizen will be pleased."

"_I'm still grateful for the generous help he gave me and my father. We will always be grateful,_" he replied considerately. "_Do you want to retrieve him by yourself or would you like me to send backup?_"

Still simpering, the Viper stood up from where he sat and walked to the door of the motel room leading to the hallway. He then slipped on his coat. "No. Your job here is done."

He hung up.

* * *

Prince opened his eyes to meet the ceiling above him. It was as blank as his mind as he tried to remember what had happened. Slight alarm sped up his breathing but it soon faded back when he everything came flooding back to him like a strong tide. His eyes stung a little as they adjusted to the morning sunlight that filled the room.

_Shit_.

Slowly, he lifted his body up, propping his elbow on the bed. He then ran a hand across his tired face and through his messed up hair. He carefully straightened up to a sitting position, the white sheets covering the lower-half of his body.

It was then that he noticed the sleeping form of the woman next to him. A pang sprang up from his chest. _Sakuno_, he thought as he gazed at her, curled up under the covers, her chest gradually shifting up and down while breathing, her long, brown hair tracing lines across the soft pillows. Events of the previous night flashed through his head. _Maybe I shouldn't have_...

Quietly, as not to wake her, Prince brought his face closer to hers and kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose before pulling back and placing a peck on her lips. She frowned a little, as if telling him that it was too early to wake up. But she quickly became silent again. He grinned sheepishly.

He remembered how they were last night. The sheets tangles around their fiery bodies, skin on skin, breath for a breath, pulse for a pulse. Her soft, full lips stung his face and neck as she moaned his name like prayer. It sounded like heaven to his ears. Her breasts heaved under his chest as he felt the throbbing beats of her heart under his. She dug her nails into his back in desperation as he slowly slipped inside her, applying a careful, steady rhythm. He wanted to savor the moment—her. He didn't want to rush, knowing that this chance might never come again. She was all he ever wanted now, he knew. He was afraid to hurt her, but he couldn't help it as something inside them exploded with one last thrust, magnifying the hot, pleasurable sensation they felt by a thousand fold—

It suddenly dawned unto him that they hadn't used protection. Panic kicked into his slowly recovering system at once. It was a different kind of feeling than what he felt when he was running away from the cops. _What if I got her—_ If he did, he couldn't walk out on her, not after when he did.

_It already happened._

Prince looked at the peaceful expression on Sakuno's face, feeling guilt building up inside him like a bomb waiting to go off. He traced a finger down the side of cheek, seeking comfort from the smoothness of her porcelain skin. His face hovered a few centimeters from hers. The smell of her feminine cologne did everything to soothe his uneasiness.

This might be the first and last time he would see her like this. A part of him that he only knew now didn't want to run away anymore. He was getting tired of it, but he knew it was inevitable. If he wanted to avoid the harsh consequences of his unforgivable actions, he would _have to_ run.

A voice spoke in his head. _You're a coward_, it spat.

_I know I am, _he answered.

Sakuno groaned again as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Unlike Prince, it didn't take her long to remember what had happened, and she gave him a sleepy smile as soon as their eyes met. "Good morning," she whispered, stretching her dainty arms in a tired yawn before placing a hand behind his neck, pulling him closer into a kiss.

Prince was taken aback by the bold gesture but returned it in kind as he repositioned himself and rolled on top of her. He then ran his hands over the insides of her forearms and linked his fingers with hers. His lips then traveled to the sensitive area between her neck and shoulders. He traced open-mouthed kisses on her skin and gently grazed his teeth on it. She gave a satisfied moan. He then pressed his body against hers and that was when he noticed she was still undressed. He stopped himself before he couldn't hold back anymore. Prince pulled back a little.

She looked at him with half-lidded eyes and a disappointed expression on her face. "What's wrong?" she asked him, confused.

They remained in this position for some time before Prince spoke. He looked into her eyes, realizing something. He then shifted his gaze towards the digital clock on the nightstand next to them. It was a little over half-past six in the morning.

"We need to start working out a plan now," he replied nonchalantly, withdrawing his weight from her and sitting down on the mattress. He stared at the hanging window across the room from them. "We don't have much time."

Sakuno pulled herself up to a sitting position as well, careful not to let the sheets fall from her chest. "Oh, yeah," she realized, standing up and taking the covers with her. Prince was in his boxers so he didn't seem to mind. "What do you want for breakfast?" she asked him.

The casual question took Prince by surprise. "What?"

"I said 'What do you want?'" Sakuno repeated patiently. "I'm going out to get something to eat. I hate what they serve in bed and breakfasts."

Prince realized that he hadn't eaten in over a day. He unexpectedly felt very, very hungry. He had completely forgotten his first priority upon waking up. "I'll have anything you have," was his response, unsure of what to say.

Rolling her eyes, Sakuno picked up her clothes that were littered on the floor where they were hastily thrown last night. "Hmp, _men_," she jeered as she disappeared into the bathroom.

Prince watch the door closed behind her. He then heard water running in the shower. _What a pushy girl_. Lying back on the bed, he scoffed and said, "_Women._"

* * *

The Viper watched as the brown-haired girl exited the small hotel and rounded a corner at the end of the street. She was the same woman he had seen at the shore of the creek a day ago. She was even wearing the same clothes.

He instantly recognized her as the one he had spotted at that busy section yesterday morning. It was fate, he considered. _So that was where she was going_. The Viper smiled as he waited for her to come back just in case she forgot something.

Three minutes passed and she didn't.

The Viper crossed the street and entered the quiet building. Small hotels like these don't require high security, he knew. And he was right. There was no one holding a Barrett waiting to check his coat. Not even a bellhop. He stepped inside and walked to the reception area.

He was greeted by a young man with short, nearly bald hair. The Viper slipped a hand in his coat pocket and positioned his fingers around a syringe fill with clear liquid, ready to strike. It was just a precautionary measure just in case the receptionist wouldn't let him in the rooms.

"Good morning, sir! Welcome to the Tuesday Morning Bed and Breakfast!" There was an annoying smile on his face that made the Viper cringe. "How may I help you?"

The Viper forced a smile which looked more like he was just showing off his teeth. "I just wanted to know if this man is still checked into this hotel." His free hand dug into one of his pockets and drew out a picture of the heir taken about a year ago. He handed it to the receptionist.

He looked at it closely. "Yeah," he said, looking back at the Viper. "He just checked in last night. Why'd you ask?"

"May I know his room number? I'm a good friend of his." The line was well-rehearsed. "I just heard from another friend of ours that he was staying here. We've been busy for the past years and I'd like to see him again."

The receptionist looked a little suspicious. He cleared out his throat. "May I know your name, sir?" he asked him. "And I'll need a picture ID, if you may."

"Kaoru Kaidoh," he replied, taking out a leather holder. "I forgot my other wallet but I hope this will help." He flipped the frame open to reveal a fake police badge. It appeared as good as the real thing. He could reserve the needle for later.

Eyes widening, the young man gazed at the small, shiny, copper plate. "LAPD," he breathed out. "I'm sorry for that officer," he apologized and faced the personal computer behind the desk. He then looked back at the Viper. "His room number's 25, second floor, third door on your left when you step out of the elevator. There's a doorbell outside the room so you can just—"

"Thank you." The Viper walked towards the end of the hallway.

* * *

Sakuno tried to hide her restlessness as she stepped out of the little diner about three blocks away from the motel. She wrapped her arms securely around the big, brown paper bag that contained her orders and held it against her stomach. The warmth radiating from the sandwiches felt cozy.

She also tried not to reminisce about last night's occurrences. It only added to the accumulated burden she had been carrying for three days now. Sakuno had accepted the fact that Prince _had_ to leave today. She bore that in mind when she had given all of herself to him. It was something that had to be done for his sake.

Although she wanted what was best for him, she honestly didn't know what to do. A part of her wants him to give up his life of crime and surrender willingly to the police, while the other wants him to run for his freedom despite the life he would most probably return to. Sakuno's better judgment knew that the former was the best decision, but her more emotional side was favoring the latter. It was hard.

Her hopes fell. Whichever path he chose, Sakuno would end up the same — she would be left hanging. She felt betrayed all of a sudden, though she knew that everything that was happening to her wasn't his fault, and that she wanted it. She wanted to give every bit of herself to him, her mind, body, soul — everything. And she had. Sakuno just didn't know if it was right.

She rounded the last corner and saw the _Tuesday Morning_ at the end of the block. Her strides became and longer and faster as she reached the entrance, thinking of how long she was gone. Prince might be worried...

Sakuno stepped inside the motel. Her eyes fell on the yet-again empty reception area. Shuichiro was no where to be found. She shrugged and made a left towards the hall that led to the elevator. Repositioning the paper bag, she pressed the call button and stepped inside the lift.

Once the sliding doors had opened, Sakuno walked inside the hall and went straight to the third door on the left side of the small corridor. It was quiet inside. She assumed he had fallen asleep again. He most likely didn't get any rest at night after what he did to people who fall victim to him. She was still aware that he was a criminal at large even when he didn't show it anymore when he was with her. It was kind of tricky to just let that pass.

Sakuno grabbed the brass doorknob and gave it a twist. She then pushed it open and walked in.

The next moment was a blur. It happened fast.

A tall male figure came onto her from behind. She couldn't see it. Adrenalin started pumping through her veins but her body couldn't react fast enough. _What the_— He pinned her arms to her sides with one arm as she thrashed wildy. A hand shoved a handkerchief onto her face and held it there firmly. The scent stung her nostrils and throat and made her vision blurry. He was drugging her.

_What's going on—?_ Sakuno felt her body giving away. Her eyes were forcing themselves shut as she saw Prince fighting tooth and nail to get to her. He was tied up at one corner of the room and was screaming at the man who was strangling her from the back. She wanted to run to him. Tears started falling from her eyes.

"Don't _fucking_ touch her—!"

It was the last thing she heard before everything went dark.

**

* * *

Author's note**: Hmm. I hope this chapter didn't sound sloppy. To tell you honestly, this is the first time I wrote a bed and make-out scene. Rofl. :) Forgive me if it didn't sound as sensual as I intended it to be. :D So there. What will happen to our couple next? Even I'm getting goosebumps. :D Please read and review! I'm still open for comments, suggestions, hate mail, etc. Forgive me for the typos. Thank you. :) 


	10. CHAPTER NINE: Gone

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: I have this odd way of finding my typos the very moment I publish a chapter. It's kind of annoying really because I have to re-update the chapters over and over again. Darn it, I hate typos even though I leave it all over my stories. Lol. :D Anyway, though I have the flow of the story all lined up, I make a few changes, that's why this chapter took me a little longer before I submitted it. Hope you'll enjoy this one. It's kind of boring compared with the last. Less action, more revelation. :D

**CHAPTER NINE**

Gone

Nanjirou Echizen whirled his chair around as a knock came from the double doors of his oval office. Instinctively, he tucked the latest issue of _FHM_ under his desk, out of sight, before clearing his throat and adjusting his tie. He then laced his fingers on top of the cluttered desk.

_He's a little early_. "Come in," he said.

The door swung open as a man entered. Nanjirou looked at him from head to toe, noting the slightest difference in his appearance. He hadn't changed that much. Although losing the coat-and-blazer attire clearly made his aura a little uncommon.

A smirk tugged at the edge of Nanjirou's lips as the man stopped a few inches away from his desk and returned the gesture with a grin. He then leaned his hand on the desktop coolly.

"_Oyaji_," the man said, eyeing the older man. "Long time no see." He had on a brown, leather jacket, worn-out, destroyed jeans, and pair of combat boots. His hair was black, accentuated with natural green highlights; his eyes were a sharp yellow-brown. The man took a bite of the orange he held in one of his hand.

Nanjirou narrowed his eyes as he sneered. "Ryoga," he said with casual apathy as he leaned back onto his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "What brought you here?" he asked though he already knew the answer.

"Oh, you know," he said as he put the bitten fruit on the table and pocketed his hands. "I just decided to drop, that's all." He leered. The striking resemblance to Nanjiro was unmistakable. "I suddenly had a craving for Mom's cooking."

The man behind the desk made a derisive sound. "Yeah, that's why you took off," he said with nonchalance.

Ryoga's voice shifted in tone. "You know exactly why I'm here, Dad," he shot back, his face bearing no trace of emotion whatsoever.

Nanjiro looked at his older son. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "You heard about that?" he asked him innocently, placing his feet up on his worktable.

"It's been all over the news for the past month," Ryoga said, impatient. His voice was low. "You'd think I'd recognize my brother's face if I saw it on print."

The CEO resumed his unruffled face. He chuckled. "He growing up to be just like you," he said sarcastically.

Ryoga didn't show any sign of guilt nor remorse. He even smiled. There was tension lingering in the air. "He still isn't back."

"I sent Viper out to look for him," he replied carelessly.

This seemed to have thrown his son a little off course. He snorted derisively as he picked up his orange again. "You sent the _babysitter_?" he asked with disbelief. He took another bite. "Oh, this is gonna be _good_. I haven't seen that loser in years..." he said through a full mouth.

"He was the only one who was willing enough to do it," Nanjirou said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and pouting.

Ryoga swallowed. "So?" he asked him with a slight curiosity. "What's the update?"

The older man grinned, all traces of childishness disappeared. "He's bringing him back now as we speak."

* * *

Sakuno pried her eyes open. It felt like their lids were glued together as her sight grew accustomed to the light. Every part of her felt heavy, like there was some invisible weight pinning her down on the bed, but she got up slowly with all the strength she could muster and forced herself into a sitting position.

Her head was throbbing painfully that she winced every beat or so. She blinked. The room was empty except for the bed, a nightstand, and a small sofa across from her. The air smelled sanitized, like disinfectant. Everything was white. It hit her that she was in a hospital.

_What happened—?_

Sakuno tried to put a hand to her head it gave another painful jolt but she stopped as soon as something tugged at the spot just below her knuckles. Something very sharp jabbed at her skin. She was hooked in an IV. The needle was almost completely out but the tip was still intact to her skin. It was painful.

"Ow—" She tried to remove the tape the fastened the small syringe to her hand.

The door a few feet away from her slowly swung open, light wedging across the floor. Sakuno turned her head to look at the woman who rushed immediately to her side and began fiddling with the mess she made.

"Oh dear, what happened?" she asked as she took off the medical tape and pulled out the needle. Apparently, she was a doctor who worked here. "You shouldn't have tried to take it out yourself, dear..." she told Sakuno, reaching out to the night table and taking out a cotton ball from a bottle labeled 'with isopropyl alcohol'. With a steady hand, she applied to the small puncture wound on the back of Sakuno's hand.

_What's going on?_ She was at a loss for words. _Why am I here—?_

She winced as the cool liquid stung. When the doctor had removed the cotton, she took out another one from the same bottle and began spreading alcohol on her other hand. "It was a good thing I came to check on you," she said, not looking at Sakuno and focusing on the syringe. "This is going to hurt just a little bit."

The doctor posed the needle over the back of her hand at an angle and slowly plunged it into her skin. Sakuno cringed for the second time around, but the pain didn't last long. The physician then securely taped it into place. "There you go," she said finally. "And try not to mess that up again," she added as a joke. Her nameplate read '_Dr. Hanamura_'.

Sakuno stared at the newly-placed syringe, trying to recall the last thing that had happened to her. But she couldn't. Frustration built up inside her. It was like cupping water in her hands or trying to remember a dream. The more she thought about it, the more she forgot.

But she felt that there was something missing, like a step that she had somehow overlooked. _Damn it_. Sakuno looked up at the doctor, her expression as blank as her mind.

"W-where am I?" she asked. "What happened t-to me?"

The doctor gave her a warm smile. "One of your friends found you in your apartment around lunch," she answered, checking the IV bottle on the stand. "Apparently, you didn't show up at work and your friend got worried. You passed out; you were lying on the floor when she came. It seems that you had too much to drink the night before."

Sakuno furrowed her eyebrows. "I d-did?" she asked doubtfully. _I don't remember drinking—_ "What time is it?"

The other woman checked her wristwatch. "It's a quarter past seven in the evening," she said. "And I gotta get check on the little girl in the next room," she added, giving Sakuno another sweet smile. "Get some rest, Miss Ryuuzaki."

_What the—I don't remember drinking at all—Scratch that, I don't remember anything,_ she thought, her free hand on her forehead. She then stared at the ceiling, her mind as empty as the room when the doctor had stepped out.

Like a video in slow motion, Sakuno tried to recall whatever it was she that she could. _I was at work... Horio was hitting on me again... Then I left... I was in the _Coffee Grinder_, talking to Eiji... I was thinking about something... Or someone...? Then..._

_Then..._

Her head pounded. It felt like something hit her hard on the head, making her fall back onto the pillow. Sakuno groaned but the pain subsided gradually.

_What happened to me?_ Tears formed at the edge of her eyes as she covered her mouth with a shaking hand.

She felt like something was missing. And it didn't help when she couldn't remember what it was. No, it wasn't something — A part of her had been _taken_. She didn't know what that part was and who took it. All she knew was she felt incomplete. And that it was killing her inside out.

Sakuno cried.

* * *

"Oy, _Chibisuke_."

_What—?_

Prince woke up. His eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated, irises pale-gold. He could feel his body beaded with cold sweat as he lay, unmoving, on an unfamiliar bed. A groan escaped his lips as his vision tried to adjust to the surroundings. Someone was there. His senses were still rattled.

There were figures looming over him. They weren't threatening, but he knew something wasn't right. _Where am I?_ Slowly, he propped his elbow on the soft mattress and helped himself to sit up. His eyes gradually cleared out as he saw the faces of the shadows around him. There were two.

_Who are you people?_

"You look like _shit_," a male voice said. There was a laugh from the same person.

Prince blinked. He focused on the one beside him. The man had black-green hair and cat-like, yellow eyes. It was as if he was looking in a mirror. The only difference was that a playful smirk was on his lips. His own face was blank.

He didn't know who the man was.

His impulse kicked in. Eyes wide open, he scrambled like a cornered prey towards the back of the bed, his back colliding against the wooden headboard. Prince could feel the rush of blood through his body as his breathing became short and shallow. Instinctively, his hand went to his right pocket where he kept his pocket knife.

It wasn't there. They had stripped him of everything except his pants.

The room was large and elaborately decorated. Everything was furnished down to the floor. It was foreign to his eyes. This was definitely not his place—

_Shit._

He couldn't run; he didn't know where he was. And his muscles felt unexpectedly worn-out. But he needed to get out. He was cornered. His eyes darted around madly, his body shook. It was the police — they got to him — _Where's the door—? I need to get out of here—_

"Ryoma?"

Prince was stunned to hear a soft, female voice. He whirled his head around to look at the woman standing near the edge of his bed, just a few steps from the man. She had beautiful brown eyes and dark brown hair that was twisted into a bun behind her head. There were fine lines running through her face. She wore a simple business suit. And there was a tender and unseen aura emanating from her.

He felt a pang in his heart.

_Ryoma?_

Why did she call him that?

But something in the way she said it made his panic ebb away. It was as if he had known that familiar feminine ring all his life. It warmed his insides in a way that she only made him feel—

Suddenly, electrifying pain shot from back of his neck and through his head. He let out a yelp as he felt warm liquid thickly dripped down from his nostrils. He then heard the woman panicking. Prince grabbed a handful of the crisp, white sheets and applied pressure to his nose to block out the hurt he felt.

"Ryoma — Oh, my God," the woman stuttered and ran to sit down next to him. She placed her slender hands on either side of his face and tilted it up to take a better look. There was a red stain creeping on the covers in his hands. "Oh, my God—"

With the touch of her skin on his, the pain quickly subsided. Prince looked up to see the same pair of welcoming, concerned eyes. It felt like she hasn't seen her in a long time. There was something in her that reminded him of...

He let out another short scream as the pain quickly returned. The woman kissed his forehead in an attempt to ease it.

_What's happening—?_

"Whoa," the man in the leather jacket said. The grin was still there but there was a trace of confusion. He looked at Prince as if he had never seen anything like him. "What's your damage, man?"

"Ryoga!" the woman said. She was getting frantic. "Call the doctor!"

The man shrugged and disappeared through the open doorway.

_Who is he?_

_Why am I here—?_

Prince pressed the sheet harder against his face as though the pressure would make the pain go away. It came and went with every jab in his head. He closed his eyes and saw white light against his lids. It was like lightning.

A wave of realization hit him. It was stronger than the sting he was feeling. Numbness spread though him like wildfire. It was worse even.

It was emptiness.

_Sakuno—_

_Where is she?_

He wanted to ask but he couldn't. His jaws were locked and his face was pressed against the shoulder of the woman who took him into her warm embrace. She was whispering words of comfort to his ear, but he could barely hear it.

He let the blood-stained sheets fall from his clenched fist and on to the bed. Prince was shaking. He didn't know what to do. The pain was blocking him out. What if they did something to her? He could still recall her unconscious form as that man grabbed her and—

_Sakuno—_

"Don't worry," the woman said. "Everything's going to be alright, honey."

Prince opened his eyes.

And then he remembered.

"Mom."

* * *

"I'm impressed," Nanjirou said after his adviser had finished narrating his report. There was a look on his face that spelled 'Hurrah'. "Tell Viper I send by sincerest gratitude and deepest regard."

Fuji winced at the words that came out of the other man's mouth. It was as if he couldn't believe that Nanjirou was capable of such well-mannered tone. "Yes, I will, sir."

A playful spark was on the CEO's eyes. "So..." he began. "Where's the girl?"

His adviser's black went blank. "Excuse me sir?" he asked.

"I said 'Where's the girl?'" Nanjirou said with childish impatience, tapping his fingers on the desk.

Hesitantly, Fuji took out his Blueberry and peeked at it for second. He started reading from it. "It seems that Mr. Kaidoh shot her—"

"He did _what_?" Nanjirou interjected, spitting saliva everywhere. He stood up and slammed his palms on his desk. "That wasn't part of the—"

"—with Inui's formula," Fuji finished, cutting him short.

Nanjirou's face fell. "Oh," he said, slightly embarrassed as he sat down again. "I forget that that weird detective finally sold it to us." There was a short pause before he spoke again. "I'd bet my million-dollar estate that it knocked her out."

Fuji nodded as he focused his attention to his Blueberry. He then cleared out his throat. "According to his data, the formula '_guarantees two to three days memory lapse. It targets a specific area in the brain that contains recently-stored long-term memories within the latest forty-eight hours,_'" Fuji read.

Eyebrow raised, Nanjiro tapped a finger on his chin. "I couldn't understand anything you said, Syuusuke." he told Fuji, who smile apologetically. "What does it mean?"

"It _means_ that she won't be able to remember anything that happened to her in the past two or three days," Fuji explained, pocketing his loyal Blueberry. "And she won't be able to for a very long time."

Nanjirou smirked. "Poor girl," he whispered though he knew Fuji could hear it. "Well, it's for the best, I guess. Our _chibi_ is getting married," he added teasingly

Fuji gave a moment's thought before he remembered. "Oh, yes," he said. "He was gone for so long that I barely recalled."

The man behind the desk smiled. "Yes, and this time we'll make sure he's not going to run away."

* * *

Author's Note: Darn it, I don't know what's happening to me. Lol. I think it's just a lack of sleep. But, anyway, so there. I hope this chapter didn't sound dull compared with the last. This took me longer than expected because I kind of strayed from the original plot that I pre-wrote. Lol. :D I might extend the story until twelve chapters with a nice little epilogue to seal the deal. :D Forgive me for the typos and thank you so much for the kind reviews everyone:D 

**P.S.** I forgot to add the last part to this chapter. Please do read it first before you get on with the next. Sorry about that. :D


	11. CHAPTER TEN: Dissent

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: PLEASE READ. IT'S IMPORTANT THAT YOU DO: I added one last scene in the previous chapter, so please do check it out. I kind of skipped that part because I didn't save the MS word document first before I uploaded it. :D So there. I'm not gonna say anything else 'cause I might give 'it' away. Lol. :D Guys, please excuse the first part. It's kinda girly. Rofl. :D

**CHAPTER TEN**

Dissent

"No, you don't understand. I _have_ to go to work today."

"What are you saying?" Tomoka stared at Sakuno with sheer disbelief for the umpteenth time that early morning. They had been on this for about an hour now and, needless to say, both of them were growing tired. It was just that neither one of them was less stubborn than the other.

Sakuno was putting on her favorite pair of South Sea Pearl earrings in front of her dresser. "I'm not listening anymore, Tomoka," she said with finality as she started throwing things into her purse.

_Damn it. This is all my fault_, Tomoka thought, frustrated. _I have to tell her something—_

"Fine. I'm just gonna keep on talking then. You know how good I am at that," she shot back, standing up from Sakuno's bed and putting her hands on her hips. "You just got hospitalized for a day, for Pete's sake! And now you're just gonna go to work as if nothing happened?"

"Yes, it's because nothing _actually_ happened, okay?" Sakuno persisted. She put on a pink turtleneck sweater and her signature leather jacket.

_What? Is she kidding around? If this is one of her crazy jokes, then it isn't a very good one_. Tomoka opened her mouth hesitantly as she watched her friend with doubt.

"I woke up in the hospital and the last thing I could come up with was leaving the _Coffee Grinder_ two days before," she explained to her again, applying foundation on her paler-than-usual skin.

Tomoka could tell that she was uneasy with the way she talked. _Is she lying to me? _"You're saying that you don't remember anything? At all?" she asked her with a shocked look on her face.

_That's impossible. How can I tell her what I just did when she doesn't even remember what _she_ did? That's just totally out of proportions._

Sakuno placed her eyeliner that she had been using on the top her dresser and turned around to face Tomoka standing across the room from her. Though the makeup had done its part in concealing her pallor, it was still very obvious that she was stressed beyond any comparison.

"Does it look like I'm joking here?" she asked her seriously. "Do you think I'd wanna play games when I can't remember anything that happened to me? Not even a hint of anything?"

Tomoka looked at her eyes, looking for any trace of uncertainty or awkwardness. But she saw nothing. Sakuno was being completely honest to her, she could tell. She had known the girl for over ten years now, and she knew if whether or not her friend was telling a lie. In this case, she was not.

_She doesn't remember._

It took another moment for it took sink into Tomoka

_She really doesn't remember._

Letting out a sigh, Tomoka sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Alright, alright already," she said, defeated, a thousand thoughts passing through her mind.

_How is that possible? _Tomoka thought. _Sakuno doesn't take any kind of medication, nor does she drink or do drugs. She doesn't have any weird, inherent neuropsychological disease either. She doesn't have any injuries to her head. She even looked healthy_—

_What got to her?_

"C'mon!" Sakuno called to Tomoka. She had already reached the door and was putting on her shoes. "We're gonna be late. I don't wanna get stuck in traffic. My article's due today and I still haven't written anything."

Tomoka stood up and ran to the door.

She had to find out what happened to her friend one way or another.

After that, it would be her turn to tell Sakuno everything. 

* * *

Saori Shiba wasn't her usual pushy, gritty, you-can-do-it self that morning when Sakuno had arrived at her office. And it scared her.

"You've got five minutes to tell me what happened to you," she said flatly, her expression unreadable.

Sakuno couldn't talk. It was as though she had a case of locked-jaw. A shiver of slight fear crept on her spine as she heard the cold voice of her editor-in-chief. "I'm sorry, Miss Shiba," she said when she found her voice and the courage to speak.

The older woman raised an eyebrow. "That's all you have to say, Miss Ryuuzaki?" she asked her. It was a rhetorical question.

Sakuno couldn't find the words to say. Obviously, her chance at getting Miss Shiba's position was history. Her article that was supposed to be due today was still non-existent. She walked out of work the other morning and didn't show up the next.

She didn't understand if it was fate which was cruel or it was just because of her plain laziness. No, she wasn't lazy. There just wasn't enough time.

_Not enough time?_

_Hell, you couldn't even remember what happened._

_I guess it's not meant for me._

She let out a sigh. Sakuno suddenly felt tired. Very tired. Like the purpose she had been fighting for so long had just crumbled before her. All she wanted to do now was rest. "Yes, ma'am," she said resolutely.

_I can't do this right now._

Shiba frowned, clearly confused. "What?"

Sakuno took a deep breath, like a swimmer who didn't know if she would ever surface again. "I'm sorry, Miss Shiba," she said with the calmest voice she could muster. She didn't want to lose her job. "I-I haven't been myself lately."

The editor-in-chief didn't look shocked by her answer. "I can see that, Sakuno," she replied; there was a hint of worry in her strong voice. "Is there anything you need to tell me? I think I've the right to know. Me and your grandmother were tight."

Sakuno cringed when she thought about her grandmother. She would probably pound her to smithereens if she were still around. _Actually, I can't remember at all what happened to me; that's the problem._ "There's nothing ma'am," she replied, trying to smile. "I just haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately, and—"

Miss Shiba interjected. But it wasn't angry or forceful. "I'm giving you a leave," she said, taking out a bunch of papers from her drawer.

Sakuno looked up in surprise. _What?_ "I beg your pardon, ma'am?" she asked, unsure. _At least she's not firing me._

"I'm giving you a leave," she repeated. "Two weeks. You're one of the best ones I've got in this newspaper, and I won't risk losing you because of you passing out every now and then."

She was at a loss for words yet again. _Oh God, thank you._ "But, ma'am—"

"No 'but's, Miss Ryuuzaki," Shiba said. "It's an order from the EIC. I'm filing your leave myself. Just get some rest, okay?"

Sakuno opened her mouth to say something but she cut her off again.

"Okay?" Shiba said at little more cogently. Sakuno knew she couldn't refuse even if she wanted to.

"O-okay," she replied quietly. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

_Grandma, I need help. What am I supposed to do?

* * *

_

Nanjirou turned his chair around to see his long-lost son bursting through the double doors and walking towards his desk with brute force. His hair was still wet, probably from a bath and his suit was roughly worn, top buttons undone and his suit yet to be pressed. His eyes bore the intent to kill.

_This isn't really my idea of a first meeting, but what the heck_. Nanjirou smirked as he watched Ryoma slam his knuckles onto his desk, rattling his papers and magazines. His fists stayed there as he leaned closer to him, his face as hard as stone.

"Where is _she_?" Ryoma said, his voice like acid. He looked at Nanjirou straight in the eyes.

Sneering, the older man raised an eyebrow. _Looks like he's pretty pissed._ "Looks like you finally remember _something_," he said mockingly.

Ryoma narrowed his eyes, his hard façade unfaltering. "Of course I do," he said lowly. He was looking at Nanjirou as though he was the most distasteful thing he had seen. "Where is _she_?" he repeated.

"Where's who?" Nanjirou asked though he knew well what his son was talking about. He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head characteristically. He then stared at the ceiling.

Ryoma finally snapped. He grabbed Nanjirou by the collar and brought him closer. The CEO could tell that he was using all his strength to stop himself from punching him. "Tell me where Sakuno is. Now." He said through clenched teeth.

Nanjirou smiled derisively. "Tch," he slapped Ryoma's hand away as he resumed his position. _What a stubborn brat._ He reminded him of himself when he was young. "Is that her name? She must be a catch for you to want her that much—"

"_Where. Is. She._" Ryoma emphasized every single word with impatience, seizing Nanjirou's collar again.

He just stared back. Nanjirou's expression was blank. 

* * *

__

Why won't he tell me where she is?

Ryoma's patience was wearing thin. Very, very thin. He wanted to strangle his father just to pry the answer out of him. Everyone he asked didn't know anything, but Ryoma knew that his father did. He always knew.

He remembered the way the Viper had jumped onto her from behind. At first, he though he was suffocating her. Ryoma wanted to kill the bastard without hesitations. She didn't want to see her like that — helpless and unprotected. But he was tied up and could do nothing. He hated himself for that.

The last time he saw her was when the Viper carried her outside. Ryoma was screaming threats to the snake man but to no effect. All he could do was get lost in the unpleasant thoughts of what they might do to her. He tried not to but it was futile.

His heart sank when the Viper returned a few minutes later without her.

_Sakuno, what did they do to you?_

"_Fuck_," he said, letting go of his father and standing up. _This is useless._ "Fine, if you're not gonna tell me then I'll look for her myself."

Anger at its peak, Ryoma turned around and walk towards the doors. He was determined to look for her wherever he was. He wouldn't rest until she was with him, when he could make sure that nothing would ever hurt her again.

A hand held him back by the shoulder.

Ryoma turned around. He knew what was coming next. _I'm going to find her no matter what_—

His thoughts were thrown off course as a hard fist came crashing on his cheek. Pain shot up from his jaw as his neck snapped to the side. His mind went black, his skin and muscles stung. He could taste blood in his mouth. Ryoma stumbled for a moment but caught himself in time.

_I remember now. How could forget that. I didn't miss it though._

He opened his eyes and turned to look at his father standing in front of him. His expression was unreadable, like it always did when he was angry. "You are not going anywhere," Nanjirou said, pushing Ryoma powerfully against the door, his hands clutching fistfuls of Ryoma's suit.

Ryoma cringed as his back crashed against it. There would be bruises on his back tomorrow. _Sakuno._ "I don't care what you say," he spat, looking at his father's brown eyes. _I have your eyes but I'm not you._ "I'm going to look for her—"

Nanjirou pulled Ryoma back a little before he rammed his against the hard, wooden door for the second time. Ryoma winced again. His back was starting to hurt a lot. "No, you are going to stay here," he warned the younger man, his face coming dangerously closer. There was the same venom in his voice that Ryoma had used before. "You are not going to look for your little _girl friend_ and you are going to get married."

_Getting married?_

For a moment, Ryoma's anger ebbed away. The words were as good as his father's blow on his cheek when it hit him. His yellow eyes widened with unexpected surprise and wordlessness. He had not recalled everything after all.

_What?_

Nanjirou smirked. "Oh, you don't remember?" he whispered against Ryoma's ear. His tone was cutting his skin. "You were supposed to get married to that American bastard's daughter before your little Houdini stunt," he said, teeth gritted.

Black hair and aqua-blue eyes flashed through Ryoma's mind that moment. He was stunned. _No. Sakuno._ His eyes were focused on his father's raging ones. It seemed that he had lost his voice.

His father kept on sneering. He even chuckled. "Don't worry," he hissed. "You'll remember her one way or another." He landed a solid punch into Ryoma's gut.

He doubled up as his body collapsed on the floor where he laid, recoiled and wheezing. He couldn't breathe as he gasped for air. "A-asshole—" he managed to say, looking up at Nanjirou's figure standing over him.

"That's for making your mother worry," he said. 

* * *

Eiji Kikumaru wiped the countertop as he closed for the night, cursing the other waiter who had left him to clean up alone because of a 'family emergency'. He had left the store with a smile and a spark in his eyes, saying "I know you can do it! I own one!"

In this business, he knew very well that "family emergency" meant "late for a date". Eiji shook his head in disgust as he let out a tired sigh. _I should as the boss for a raise or a promotion._ He then removed his apron and disappeared into the back of the now-empty coffee shop where the employee's lockers were placed.

Feeling sleepy, he entered his personal combination number and swung open his locker. He threw the dirty apron carelessly inside and slipped on the messenger bag he brought everyday to work. _I need sleep_, he thought, closing his cabinet and making sure it was locked.

Right on cue, he heard his cell phone ring. Frowning, he took it out of his back pocket and flipped the screen open. _Who could be calling at a time like this?_ It was already eleven in the evening, he noted from his watch. "Hello?" he answered.

"_Eiji?_" the woman on the other line said.

He recognized it and his ears tingled like a cat's. "Tomoka?" he said, surprised. "You're calling from a payphone. What's up?" he asked casually.

A couple moments passed. Tomoka was restless, he could tell. "_I need to tell you something_," she said seriously. Her breathing was quick and shallow. "_It's about another thing, and... Sakuno._"

_Sakuno?_ His ears twitched again. "Oh, yeah," he said, snapping his fingers. "Have you heard from her?"

"_Yeah, I did_," Tomoka replied breathlessly. "_But, I think there's s-something wrong with her._"

Eiji pouted in confusion. He felt a little anxious. "Why?" he said with concern. "What happened to her?"

Tomoka sighed against the receiver. "_That's the thing..._" Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

He was getting apprehensive. Sakuno and Tomoka had been his friends for the past years, ever since the shop was built. They were like little sisters to him. He felt party responsible for them. "What, Tomoka?" he pressed on.

"_She doesn't seem to remember what happened to her, Eiji._" 

* * *

****

Note: In this story, Ryoma has a case of _retrograde amnesia_. It's wherein the patient won't be able to recall anything that happened prior to the head injury or head trauma that caused the said amnesia. There is a chance for recovery, and, according to my mom's medical books, if the patient is informed of the memories that were lost, the patient may be able to remember. (Yes, I did some research. Lol. :D)

**Author's note**: (evil cackle) Darn, I feel sorry for our couple. And, yes, don't worry, I'll _try_ to give them a happy ending. :D As you can see, our _POT_ characters are OOC. Please forgive me for that. I'm just so getting lost with writing this, and I hope you still enjoy it as much as I do. :D Forgive me for the typos and thank you for your reviews. :D


	12. CHAPTER ELEVEN: Forsaken

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: I need sleep. Lol. :) Anyway, chapter eleven's up! And at this point in the story, I can't honestly say that I have no idea up to what chapter I plan to extend this fic to. I hope you guys don't mind. :D _Note to Momo/Ann fans_: Momo/Ann fluff coming up. :D Read on. :D

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Found

"_She doesn't seem to remember what happened to her, Eiji._"

Eiji Kikumaru's brows furrowed. Tomoka didn't — never — spoke to anyone in the tone she used now. He realized this was a serious matter. _Doesn't remember?_ "What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked, puzzled.

Tomoka sniffed. He knew she was crying. "_She doesn't remember anything that happened to her since leaving your coffee shop_," Tomoka said. "_After that, all she said she could remember was waking up in the hospital._"

"Hospital?" Eiji echoed. He scratched the tip of his nose. "Why was she there?"

"_I-I don't know_," Tomoka answered hesitantly. "_When I c-came to check her flat, she was lying on the floor, p-passed out. I was the one who took her there._"

Eiji was surprised. "Why did she pass out?" he said. This was bad. "What did the doctor say?"

Tomoka heaved a heavy sigh. "I d-don't know," was Tomoka's reply again. She then remained silent for a few seconds. Eiji was growing restless. "Eiji, there's s-something I need to tell y-you."

Ears twitching, he listened intently. "What is it?" he said, leaning against the lockers.

She sighed again. Eiji could tell she was having a hard time about this. _"Do you know something about the m-missing heir?_" she asked him suddenly.

Eiji was completely thrown off guard. _Missing heir?_ "What?" he said, pulling his phone back to look at it incredulously before replacing it on his ear. "Why are you asking me this, Tomoka?"

"_Just answer my question... please._" Her voice was faltering.

Giving it a moment's worth of thought, he recalled reading an article about it in the tabloid one of the customers left a couple of weeks ago. "Yeah, I know something," he said, still perplexed at Tomoka's question. "Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?" he said again.

Tomoka breathing was labored. A pause followed Eiji's last word before she found her voice again. It was so unlike her to be this way. "_The thing is..._"

"What?" Eiji was more nervous than before. _What's going on?_

"_I saw Sakuno with him three nights ago_."

* * *

Takashi Kawamura waited patiently behind his small office at the back of precinct 2376. He had cleared up the mess and was sitting behind his old desk, clicking a pen uneasily. He then checked the wall clock. 6:57PM, he noted.

_Any minute now_, he thought, wiping his sweaty palms on his navy blue trousers. _Dad, I hope what I'm doing is right—_

His neck snapped up when he saw a silhouette behind the frosted glass of his door. Kawamura almost stood up in surprise but caught himself in time. He instinctively cleared out his throat and exhaled.

The knob clicked as the door swung open slowly. A tall man in a brown work suit entered. He had short, light brown hair and the same hue of sharp eyes behind an oval pair of eyeglasses. In his hand was a black attaché case.

Kawamura got up from where he was seated and held out a hand courteously. "Attorney Tezuka," he greeted as the other man took his hand.

He nodded, his face bearing indifference. "Officer Takashi Kawamura, I presume?" he asked.

It was Kawamura's turn to nod. He gestured to a chair in front of the desk. "Please, sit down," he requested with respect.

The attorney took his seat, placing his suitcase on the floor. "First of all, Mr. Echizen would like to send his regards for your work, Mr. Kawamura," he began, his voice deep and straightforward.

Kawamura gave a smile. "It's the least I can do for what the help he gave me and my father," he said. "Please tell him I also said my deepest gratitude."

Tezuka nodded then cleared his throat. "I hope you've received my previous message regarding the matter at hand," he began, pressing on the more important issue.

"Yes, I did," Kawamura said as he recalled the emails. _Please tell me what I'm doing is the right thing..._

Leaning back on his chair, Tezuka crossed his arms in front of him in a very business like manner. "To tell you honestly, that was an order, not a request," he said flatly.

The officer was aware. "Yes, I know, Mr. Tezuka," he said. "I have no interest in refusing Mr. Echizen's request." _No matter how much I want to._ He faked a determined face.

"Good," Tezuka said with nonchalance, reaching out and lifting the heavy case he had brought with him. He gently placed it on the surface of the table between them. "We will be sending the decoy within the next twelve hours to cover up everything," he said.

Kawamura swallowed. _God, please forgive me for this._ "I'll send my team to look for him to make it look a little more convincing," he said, slightly indecisive, eyeing the attaché case.

Tezuka laid a hand on the leather container. "This contains three million dollars in cash," he said, watching the officer shocked expression. "I hope this will be enough."

Kawamura's jaw dropped. _What the—_ "What am I supposed to do with that?" he blurted out.

The attorney remained unflinching. "Delete all of Ryoma Echizen's criminal records, remove all wanted posters if there are any, make his victims lives better, tell everyone concerned that you've captured the thief," Tezuka enumerated, pokerfaced. "Mr. Echizen said you can keep the rest when you're done."

_Unbelievable._ Kawamura stared at the suitcase in front of him. _No way. This is going straight to the fund-raiser when everything's cleaned up._ "Consider it done," he said promptly.

"I take that no one else in this precinct knows about this," he added.

Kawamura shook his head in reply. "No one," he assured. "Just me." _What else are you people capable of?_

Tezuka stood up and shook hands with the stunned officer. "Then, it was pleasure doing business with you, Officer Kawamura," he finally said, shaking hands with him. "I need to get going. I have other business to attend to."

"Yes," Kawamura stuttered as he got up himself and led Tezuka to the exit. "I owe Mr. Echizen my well-being," he added politely, opening the door. "If ever he needs anything, I'll be more than willing to help again."

The attorney gave a nod before he disappeared through the open doorway.

_I hope this is the last time I'll ever have to go through with this_, he thought as he walked back to his desk and lightly touched the case. Kawamura didn't dare open it.

_I can't lie to Momo about his anymore._

But he knew he had to.

_Dad, is this the right thing?_

The still air was the only reply.

* * *

Takeshi Momoshiro felt the distinct smell of the hospital as he stepped out of the elevator and headed for the room at the end of the hall. It was out of habit that he didn't consider the room numbers. He had been through this routine for countless times already that the nurses all gave him their familiar smiles. The bouquet of around his arm gave off its flowery scent. 

He stopped and looked with half-lidded eyes at the nameplate that was hung at the door. '_Ann Tachibana-Momoshiro'_ it read in handwritten letters. A small smile appeared on his lips. _Too long._ _I told her not to get it hyphenated, but no... What a stubborn woman_, he thought, shaking his head and remembering how they had fought over something so shallow before their got married.

Momoshiro silently wished that he could turn back time. It was something he wouldn't mind reliving over and over and knew that he would never grow tired of it.

Slowly, he twisted the cold doorknob and pushed the door open.

And there she was, looking every bit as breathtaking as the first time he had laid his eyes on her.

Ann's face brightened up considerably when she saw Momoshiro walked towards her. She has hooked onto an IV, a new one, he noted. Her short, light brown hair framing her small, fragile face as she gave him a heartbreaking smile. She sat up when she saw him.

Momoshiro sat on the edge of the bed. He then kissed Ann on the forehead. "Hi beautiful," he said softly as he handed her the flowers.

Ann's eyes widened with surprise. She took the bouquet of daisies and smelled them. Her dainty lips pressed into a smile. "Aw, my favorite flowers," she said, looking at Momoshiro, who beamed proudly. "You remembered."

"How could I forget?" he said, placing another quick kiss on her lips and wrapping her arms around her. He then rested his cheek against hers. "Happy anniversary."

Ann giggled and Momoshiro wondered how his wife never failed to take his breath away. Up to now, he couldn't figure out how a woman so wonderful was meant for a guy like him. It seemed so impossible, and yet, here they were.

They were making it somehow.

Ann returned the gesture and embraced him warmly. They stayed in this position for some time before she sniffed, breaking the silence. He knew what was happening.

Pulling back, Momoshiro looked at Ann, his hands soothingly placed on her shoulders. Tears were forming at the edges of her eyes as he cradled the flowers in her arm. "Don't cry," he hushed, his thumb wiping her tears as soon as it touched her skin.

Ann smiled then looked up. "I'm sorry, honey," she said contritely. "I know we've been through this, but I just miss him... so much."

Momoshiro felt a warm sensation in his chest at his wife's words. "I know, I know. It's not your fault." He quickly stole a kiss from her again. "I do too," he said, thinking about their lives changed after—

"I shouldn't be thinking about this. It's our anniversary, for God's sake," she said, trying to laugh and wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "So, what do you have planned for tonight?" she asked him with a smile.

Momoshiro also brushed his thoughts aside and considered for a moment. "I was wondering... I could bring you that steak you've been craving from _Friday's_..." he said teasingly.

Ann face brightened for the second time. "Yeah, that's a great idea! I'm so sick of the food they serve here," she said, clapping her hands together.

"...Or we could have something to-go from McDonald's—"

"No!" Ann yelled as she slapped him on the shoulder. Momoshiro yelped in pain. "You know I hate fast food—"

"I was kidding, woman!" he said, rubbing his arm and laughing. "Looks like you got old strength back," he realized.

Ann grinned. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "A week's worth of hospital food... The nurses probably thought I was someone without teeth." She crossed her arms and pouted.

Momoshiro chuckled at his wife's reaction. _So immature. _"I thought you—"

His phone rang, cutting him in mid-sentence. Momoshiro took it out from his breast pocket and looked at the name on the LCD screen. '_Takashi Kawamura_'. He looked at his wife, who understood immediately and nodded.

He jumped off the bed and quickly left the room. Making sure the door behind his was closed, he answered the call.

"Taka," he said quietly. "This had better be good. This isn't really a very good time—"

Kawamura interjected sharply. "_I think I could just make your day, Momo_," he said.

Momoshiro's eyes widened with curiosity. His hopes were flying again after what felt like eternity. "What?" he asked, expecting and fearing the answer.

"_I have your man_," Taka said. "_He's behind bars._" 

* * *

Eiji was sitting down on the floor. His knees had given out a long time ago after Tomoka had told him everything. At first he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but it sunk into him eventually. His ear felt numb as he pressed his cell phone onto it with a little too much force than was necessary.

"_Eiji_," Tomoka said, her voice cracking. "_You've got to help me. I don't think Sakuno's gonna get any better if I kept my mouth shut this one time that I do—_"

"I'm more than willing to help you guys out, Tomoka," he said, putting a hand to his forehead in an attempt to figure something out. His mind had gone blank. "I honestly don't know where to start? Where _is_ Sakuno right now?"

"_I-I don't know_," Tomoka replied, unsure as she breathed loudly into the receiver as though she had just run a mile. "_She's in her apartment right now maybe._"

Suddenly Eiji stood up. "You left her _alone_?" he asked her with disbelief. "Where are _you_ right now?" he asked her, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag.

"_H-huh?_" Tomoka sounded surprised. _"I'm in a phone booth at the corner of Melrose and Blythe, near the city library._"

"Stay there, wait for me," Eiji said, leaving the Employees' lounge and the _Coffee Grinder_. He securely locked the entrance and started looking for an empty cab.

"We're going to see her," he said and hung up.

* * *

Sakuno Ryuuzaki stared at the beautiful diamond ring around her finger, getting lost in her thoughts for the umpteenth time that evening. 

_Where did you come from?_ she asked the piece of jewelry as though it was capable of speech. It glinted against the light from her night lamp. _I don't remember buying anything for myself lately._

She scoffed. _Like that's the only thing you don't remember_, she told herself as she snuggled into the sheets, trying in vain to make herself sleepy. Sakuno tried to convince herself that maybe it was just lack of sleep, it was because of the overwhelming pressure that came with that damned promotion, and that it was something she had to ignore.

The funny thing was, whenever she tried to push aside her 'memory lapse' issue, something kept tugging at her persistently. Like she was being forced to remember what she had forgotten. _Does that make sense?_ she asked herself, frowning. _No, it doesn't._ At this point in her life, nothing made sense to her anymore.

"Lemme see," she thought aloud, her voice sounded alien to her own ears. She counted everything off her fingers. "I can't remember what happened to me the past couple of days, the people in the hospital probably think I'm an alcoholic, I almost lost my job if it weren't for my unbelievable nice boss, I have a no-pay leave, I have no idea how to pay the rent and my maxed-out cards..."

..._Not mention I have this gut feeling that I left something somewhere_.

She trailed off and disappeared into the silence that enveloped her empty flat. _Life can't get any worse, right?_ she asked herself again, feeling a little more insane by the minute she spent thinking. _How I wish there was someone who could make everything better_—

Her train of thoughts halted abruptly.

_There is someone_, she realized out of the blue. Sakuno sat up, staring at her confused reflection on her dresser's mirror.

She looked pretty healthy for someone who just got out of the hospital. There weren't any unwanted blemishes on her face except for the faint pink hue that stained her cheeks. Her brown hair was soft to the touch and shined as it caught light from her lamp. Even her skin was glowing.

Tomoka and her other friends from work had always said that in order to feel complete, you have to look and feel good, because, in that way, you could get virtually whatever you wanted. Sakuno gazed at the mirror image across from her and could tell that she looked better than 'good.' She knew she could tell that to anyone without any trace of hesitation even when she was still in her nightgown.

But as she looked deeper into it, the more she thought about it, she realized.

She has never felt so incomplete in her entire life.

And she didn't know why.

* * *

**Author's note**: I'm sorry if my resolution's a little long. I'm still trying to find a way to fit the pieces of this story together in such a way that there won't be any loopholes, cracks or arcs left hanging. Sorry about that. I kind of strayed from my original plot to make things just a little but more interesting. (wink) :D Thanks for the reviews and forgive me for the typos, as usual. :D


	13. CHAPTER TWELVE: Rapt

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: By the way, guys, today will be the end of my daily updates. Don't freak out because I'm NOT discontinuing this story, okay? It's just school's starting so my updates are shifting from everyday to every week since I don't have a computer in the dorm I'm staying in and I only get to go back home during the weekends. Don't worry. I'll make sure the wait is worth it. In the meantime, I'll try to write as many chapters as I can. Even I can't wait to get this story finished. :D Ryoma is going emo in this chapter. Lol. And I hope you guys remember Hanna Essenheimer from the series (If you don't: She was Tezuka's trainer when he was in a rehabilitation center in Germany; debuted as a pro when she was 16). She's a lot younger here. :D

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Rapt

"What the hell are you guys doing here?"

Tomoka and Eiji grinned at Sakuno the moment she opened the door to her apartment. It was kind of odd seeing them together outside the _Coffee Grinder_ but simply brushed it aside and let them in.

"We wanted to see how you were doing," was Eiji's reply.

She watched as the two settled down on the big bean bags she had placed in the corner that was supposed to be a living room. Tomoka looked pale, she noticed, and Eiji was disturbed. It was a very bizarre sight. Both of her friends who never seemed to run out of energy were now looking bland and quiet.

Sakuno sat down on the carpet next to them. She chuckled a bit. "I'm fine," she said reassuringly. She looked at Tomoka who was fiddling her fingers. "Didn't you tell him that, Tomoka?"

Her best friend looked up. "I did, but—"

"Let's get straight to the point," Eiji interjected, making Sakuno and Tomoka jerk in surprise. The latter swallowed. "Tell us what happened," he said.

Sakuno groaned in dismay. _Not this again._ "I told you," she began patiently. "I don't know. The doctor said Horio found me lying on the floor and that I probably had too much to drink the night before. No big deal," she lied.

"You never drink, Sakuno," Tomoka said, looking at her friend with worried eyes. "You don't remember anything at all?" she pressed on.

Growing slight impatient, the other woman let out a sigh. _Damn it, no matter how much you try to pry it out of me, I'll never recall whatever it is that happened._ "Look, I'm grateful for your concern, guys," she said as she pushed her hair behind her ear. "But I only know as much as you do—"

"That's it!" Tomoka cut her sharply. She stood up and pointed a finger at Sakuno. "If you don't remember anything, then I do!" she said, finally snapping out of her uneasy state.

Sakuno eyes rounded with surprise. She didn't expect Tomoka to react like this all of a sudden.

"Tomoka, calm down," Eiji said with a faintly timid expression on his face. He and Sakuno knew very well what this woman was capable of whenever she got angry. Things never turned out pretty.

_This is more like the Tomoka I know_, Sakuno thought as she edged a little farther away from the raging girl.

"No, I will calm down, Eiji!" she yelled, walking closer to Sakuno and leaning her face closer to hers. The other woman was short of petrified. "Remember that damn article you didn't finish? The one that Miss Shiba asked me to do?" she asked with a raised tone, pigtails flailing everywhere.

Sakuno thought about it. _What does that have to do about anything?_ "Yeah, I do," she answered hesitantly, afraid that what she would say might madden her friend more. "How's that connected to—"

"Does the name 'Ryoma Echizen' mean anything to you?" she asked Sakuno as she grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her wildly. "'Missing Japanese heir'? How about '_Nitoryuu Tennis Company_'? Sakuno, you must remember something!"

Sakuno's brain felt rattled after being shaken by Tomoka. _Those I can remember._ "Yeah, they were all in that article we wrote," she said, getting more confused by the moment. "But, Tomoka, how's that related to what's happening to me?"

"You weren't able to find a picture of him, right?" Tomoka asked; her voice betrayed the fact that she had just realized what she said.

Sakuno shook her head. _I'm not getting any of this at all. What's wrong with her?_

"That's why you can't recognize him." Tomoka straightened up as Eiji watched the battling women in one corner. She fumbled through her purse and pulled out the picture that was clipped on the article they were talking about. She held it in front of Sakuno's eyes. "Please say something," was all she said.

With trembling fingers, Sakuno slowly took the photograph from Tomoka. She frowned at what she saw.

The shot was obviously stolen. The young man in the picture looked slightly surprised when it was taken. His ruggedly cut hair was an odd color of black with a hue of green. His almond-shaped were eyes a piercing yellow-gold against the flash of the camera. The photo came up to his waist and she could tell that he was wearing a fancy black business suit.

_Who's this—?_

A moment passed wherein her mind became a vacuum.

Then a wave of realization hit her. Her eyes widened even more. Everything around disappeared it seemed, as all that she had lost flooded back to her.

_The rainy night._

Sakuno lifted a hand to her open mouth in shock. Her heart pounded in her head with every memory that was relived.

_That's why I didn't finish my article._

_He escaped the police._

_I ran away with him._

_We hid somewhere._

_It was the most wonderful night of my life._

She stared off into space. How could she forget?

A name floated from the depths of her subconscious.

"Prince..."

* * *

Detective Inui didn't like what he was seeing.

He had been observing his experimental hamsters for the past four hours, and, apparently, there was something wrong with his most recent simulation. His data didn't fit in together like they were supposed to and the way things were going, it wasn't going to get any better.

In the past couple of years, he had been working to perfect a concoction that was handed down to him by his father. The invention, when finalized, would permanently delete the memories of any warm-blooded mammal that was injected with it. Though his 'target memories' went as far as the most recent year, the experiment's effect could only remove recently-stored memories under the latest forty-eight hours prior to its injection. It came short of his expectations but, nevertheless, it had worked.

Or so he thought.

Within the past two days, he had trained his vermin a couple of tricks or so which served as a marker of their memories. He then placed them in a small, empty, glass cage to avoid any stimuli that could affect them and injected an amount of his "Forgetfulness Serum" into their spinal cord. The hamsters were knocked out for exactly 5.7 hours before waking up, unaware of the tricks that Inui had taught them.

He _thought_ it was a success.

But now, from what he saw, his hamsters were suddenly capable of their previous routines with proper stimulation coming from him. They could rollover and play dead like they did forty-eight hours before. It seems trivial, but to Inui, it meant everything.

It seems that the formula was wearing off. There were still some bugs that he needed to fix. The effect was similar to that of an alcoholic drink, he scribbled in his notebook. The hangover just took longer to wear out. But it still wasn't permanent at all like it was supposed to work.

He needed to make a phone call. His life might depend on it.

* * *

Ryoma was pacing around his bedroom like an angry tiger locked a cage. Everything around him was a wreck after he had an infuriated fit when his father's bodyguards had hauled him in here with brute force. He was still winded out from when his father had punched him so he couldn't do anything but gasp unconvincing death threats at the thugs who carried him here. It was frustrating.

It secretly amazed him that, as a child living inside this palace-like of a house, he always felt a little helpless. Sure, he was free to roam around the vast garden up front or beat his older brother at tennis at the backyard that looked more like an exclusive resort than a patch of grass. But, the thing is, he was only limited to these things. He couldn't leave for parties when he wanted to, and even if he could escape, there would be his father's men that would search for him up and down until they did find him.

_I am so sick of this life._

Not much has changed when he turned into the young man that he was now. Being the first-born had always been Ryoga's job. Hell, he would've been the heir to this ludicrous company if he didn't run off to join the crew he treated more of a family than he did his parents. Nanjirou was highly ashamed, disappointed, and angry even that he paid the press a big amount of money to keep them quiet. After that, he pretended that his older son didn't exist and instead put all his pent-up frustrations on his younger one.

_Damn you, Ryoga. This is all your fault. If you didn't run off—_

On the other hand, being the second and last child was Ryoma's job. Servants would always chase after him, asking if he needed anything else in this life of his where he could get _everything_ he wanted with just a snap of a finger. Ryoga would always yell "_Chibisuke!_" at him whenever he wanted his help at another one of his impish tactics to make his father's life utterly miserable when they were little. His mother had always called him "sweetie" or "honey" or any other pet name that would undoubtedly attract ants. Not that he minded that is. He cared for his mother more than he did to any other woman in this world.

But that was before he had met her. The one who made everything seem right in his previous life where all the things he did were a sin.

_Sakuno_.

Ryoma sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand across his face. He wondered where she was now, wanting to touch her face, her long, brown hair, look into those beautiful brown orbs, and kiss her soft lips. He wanted to hear her voice again, that familiar feminine ring that weakened his knees she called out to him.

It was driving him mad.

He needed to see her. Ryoma didn't want to sit here and do nothing while reluctantly accepting the possibility that he might never see her again. He wasn't going to get married even if his entire life depended on it. He would rather die than completely forget about Sakuno.

No, nothing was going to stop him. He had to find a way to get out the hellhole he was stuck in. Not even his bastard of a father would be able to bring his determined will to an end—

A knock on the door disrupted his building thoughts. His frustration turned into annoyance when looked at the closed wooden hinge that separated him from the one outside. He wasn't going to answer it. He didn't need lecturing from anyone. Ryoma had made up his mind.

The knock persisted. It seemed to bring him back to his senses, realizing that he was acting like an immature teenager who wasn't allowed to attend a homecoming dance. _Fine._ He let out a heated sighed. "Come in," he said.

"Finally," a female voice said as the person behind the door pushed it open and entered his room. "Darn it, I thought you weren't gonna let me it."

He looked at the woman who was walking up to him. The girl had waist-long, straight, black hair and equally black eyes. She was tall, but didn't come as tall as him. Something about her was very familiar.

"Hey," she said, sitting down on a sofa chair across from his. She smiled and crossed her legs. "Don't act like you don't know your own cousin."

_Cousin?_

Ryoma remembered. This has been happening to him for a while now. _At least everything's a little easier to remember._ "Nanako," he said, raising an eyebrow. Ryoma snorted at himself. "Long time no see."

"I noticed," Nanako replied with a bit of relief in her voice. She placed her hands on her knees. "So... What've you been up to lately?" she asked casually.

Ryoma narrowed his eyes suspiciously. _Mom probably sent her._ "I don't wanna talk about that," he said icily as he kicked his shoes off. "You can tell that to my mother."

Nanako smiled again, her eyes dancing playfully. "And you're still as sharp as ever," she said with slight amusement. "I heard you had a fit in Uncle's office a few hours ago."

"I don't wanna talk about that either," Ryoma snapped.

Laughing, Nanako covered her lips with a hand. Clearly, she was pleased that he was finally home. "Well then, let's talk about something _you_ wanna talk about," she suggested.

"Tch," was all Ryoma said. Truth be told, he wanted to send her out. But his better manners pulled him back. "You can start by telling me why my mother sent you," he added after some time, his tone aloof.

Nanako rolled her eyes, exasperated. "You haven't changed a bit," she said, noting his unchanging expression before sighing. "Do you... remember the reason why you ran away?" she asked him.

Ryoma thought about it and recalled his father telling him about his 'little Houdini stunt'. It dawned unto him. "Yeah, I do." This was pissing him off more and more.

"It was the night before your wedding, right?" Nanako asked him for confirmation.

Ryoma didn't answer. His face was unreadable. _Shit, I don't wanna talk about this right now_—

Nanako continued, ignoring his coldness. "Your mother wanted me to tell you the current situation of this company," she said seriously, twiddling her fingers.

His brows furrowed. _What does that have to do with anything?_ "What're you talking about?" he asked, slightly baffled.

The woman exhaled, as though she was preparing for some sort of impact. She shifted in her seat. "There's a reason why your father planned an arranged marriage, Ryoma," she began, eyeing the confused man. "You do remember Hanna Essenheimer?"

The name started a spark in his mind. "Tch," he said again, cracking his knuckles out of habit. "How could I forget that?" he said sarcastically, thinking of his blue-eyed, red-haired supposed bride-to-be. She was a red-head after all, thinking all this time that her hair was black. _Darn memories_.

"Her father owns and runs a tennis company here in the United States similar to ours, only..." Nanako trailed off, as though searching for the right words to say. "Well, let's just put it this way," her voice changed from soft to stern. "This company isn't running as well as it used to."

Ryoma blinked. _What the hell is this woman saying?_

"You still don't get it?" she asked patiently, looking at him.

_I have a feeling that I'm not gonna like what she's gonna say next._

Nanako made a straight face that betrayed the graveness of their situation.

"You _have_ to get married to this girl, or else, the company, the family's wealth, and everything your father and mother have worked hard for is going down the drain."

* * *

Author's Note: Aw, poor Ryoma-kun. Lol. And Sakuno finally remembers? I wonder what she plans to do next? Eiji's just so adorable, don't you think? So there. R&R please. I'm open for suggestions, comments, and criticisms. :) Like I said on the opening note, this might probably be the last chapter on my usual daily updates since my classes start on Tuesday (darn it). Don't worry. I'll be back in the weekend. :D Goodbye and thank you, especially those who stuck to this little story of mine from the beginning. I love you all:D 


	14. CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Left

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: I just noticed that the titles of chapter one and twelve are the same. That's why I got my documents all mixed up. Darn. Ouch, I get like an average of four reviews per chapter. (shrugs) That's okay, I guess. I'm not doing this for reviews anyway. I'm here to write. :D This chapter shows how Ryoma had a change of heart, I mean, mind. **P.S.** I made up the directions here. **P.P.S.** I decided to add one last chapter before I whoosh off back to college. :D This is a really long chapter. Please take your time with it. :D

_With paper and pen, reborn again;_

_Till twilight I do remain._

_Inks dance on parchment, thoughts ascent_

_As they fall grain by grain._

- weirdcoffeeholic

(_dancing naked in her dorm_)

**-o0o-**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

_Left_

Sakuno noticed that Tomoka used an extra amount of effort just to keep her eyes on the road. Her grip on the steering wheel was tighter than was necessary as her brows looked like they were one brown line across her forehead instead of two. She had been biting her lower lip for the past thirty-something minutes and Sakuno was glancing every now and then to see if there was any blood.

It had been over three hours since she had regained some of her memories, around three in the morning. All throughout the trip, she was playing everything in her head like a DVD on repeat mode. Some felt like her heart was ripped out, but some made her weak in the knees even though she was seated comfortably at the passenger's side. Everything was like a dream though she knew very well that they weren't.

His yellow-gold eyes, his black hair, the way his deep voice made her want to just drop dead...

Ryoma Echizen.

So that was his real name. Sakuno thought that Prince was such a strange name for a guy who robbed innocent women just to get what he wanted. It was too ironic to fit in—

Her brain paused for a second. A notion came from deep within her subconscious and smacked her hard on the inside of her skull. It hurt. Sakuno's eyes widened. She gripped the edge of her seat as her stomach lurched with overwhelming realization. She wanted to throw up, not because she was disgusted, but simply because of the fact that—

_I'm not a virgin anymore_

_Oh. My. God._

Quite honestly, Sakuno didn't care if he was a filthy peasant boy or the son of the President of the Unites States. To her, he would always be Prince, the man who didn't want to live the life he lived, the man who did what he had to do to survive, the man she...

_What?_

_Loves?_

_Damn it._

Sakuno pushed her bangs away from her eyes.

_I had sex with a man who I just met two days before, and who, judging from Tomoka's personal profile, had enough money to actually _buy_ any woman he wanted._

A million questions raced through her mind.

_Why did we do it? Was everything that we ever felt real? Now that he probably knows who he is, would he still accept me? Or was it just a one-night stand?_

She didn't hope for the last one.

Who would've known that the petty crook who was priority number one in the Los Angeles County was _the_ heir to a prestigious tennis company? No one with an IQ higher than Detective Inui's would've guessed that—

Tomoka heaved a sigh, snapping Sakuno out of the languor she was currently drowning herself in. It was the only movement inside the Honda Civic within the past hour except for Eiji's occasional jerking in his sleep and Tomoka's hands twirling the wheel to avoid people who felt like they owned every feet of pavement they were driving on.

"Tell me again why we're doing this," she said stiffly, her eyes focused on the sea of red break lights ahead.

Sakuno gave it a thought. "Because..." she said with uncertainty. Her lack of sleep made her thinking ability slower than it usual was. "It's your idea?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. _Actually it's mine._ She felt the need to get to the bottom of this whole thing. Despite the impossibility of their situation, she wasn't about to give up.

"Darn it." Tomoka shifted gears as she passed two cars that were driving in slow-motion. She checked the rearview mirror. "For someone who works in a shop where all they serve is caffeine, Eiji sure knows how to doze off pretty well."

Grinning, Sakuno took at peek at the waiter curled up in the back seat. Eiji was the first one to take the wheel but eventually couldn't handle it as his eyes drooped on its own. They had switched a couple of hours ago.

"Where the hell are we anyway?" Tomoka asked with a tired yawn. "Feels like I've been driving for ages..."

Sakuno checked the MapQuest print out she had brought with them. "It says merge onto 405-N, around 53.2 miles, then take the Coastline Avenue exit, exit 27 onto Pearl highway," she read off the paper.

Tomoka pouted. "Great," she said sarcastically. "I still can't believe the Echizen Estate is in MapQuest. You know, these things are usually hidden. I mean, how're we supposed to break into a place that's probably crawling with guards and security systems? I can't believe we're doing this." She shook her head in disbelief.

The woman in the passenger side exhaled slowly. She then crossed her fingers.

She couldn't believe it either.

**-o0o-**

Ryoma Echizen couldn't believe the words that came out of his cousin's lips. It sounded surreal, like a line taken out of a script that couldn't possibly happen in real life. It was a slap in the face. Actually, it felt more like one of Ryoga's tennis balls hitting him squarely in the face.

His jaws drop to the floor. He didn't expect to hear this from anyone. "_What?_"

Nanako smirked. She _never_ smirked before. "Shocker, right?" she said as she gazed around the surroundings of Ryoma's elegantly adorned room where bits of clothes and décor were littered everywhere. "You see, Mr. Essenheimer is the largest contributor of _Nitoryuu_ to date. He and your father were tight."

_They were?_ Ryoma stared with skepticism. "So? What's that got to do with me?"

"The thing is, he—Mr. Essenheimer—and Uncle made a deal when you and Ryoga were little. You know how rich people are," said Nanako, her voice steady as though she practiced every line. "In order to preserve the wealth, you have to marry the wealthy."

_Sakuno_. Her name was popping in out of his head non stop. "What if I don't wanna get married to that bi—"

"Then that would be as good as throwing this company away," Nanako interjected, though not forcefully. "If you take off again like you did, or refuse to marry his daughter, Mr. Essenheimer is going to withdraw _all_ the contributions he had given your father—"

"The hell with it," Ryoma cut her short, narrowing his eyes. "My father's filthy rich. He could pay someone to get Essenheimer's head on a plate for him."

Nanako smiled at his response, her lips sugar-coated. "That's the problem," she said slowly. "Remember when I told you that this company isn't running the way it used to?"

Ryoma simply stared back. All he could think of was the woman he wanted to be with for the rest of his life.

His cousin took that for a 'yes'. "Well, there are too many zeroes to even say it," she began, leaning back on the sofa. "But if I'm doing my math correctly, I should say that Mr. Essenheimer's past contributions are bigger, much bigger, than this company's latest annual income. You know what that means, right?"

Ryoma wasn't stupid. He had his share of economics as a kid. Upon realizing, he suddenly felt like all four walls were closing in on him and there was nowhere to escape to. "Bankruptcy." The word slipped out of his mouth unconsciously.

_Fucking shit_.

_Sakuno._

_He might never be able to see her again._

_He remembered what he thought that morning when he woke up beside her._

_His assumption was right._

Nanako chuckled, but it was meaningless. "Now, do you see where I'm getting to, Ryoma?" she asked him. Nanako suddenly looked tall, overpowering. "If the wedding bells don't start chiming, then prepare to say _hasta la vista_ to everything." She waved a hand across his room.

There was silence after her last word.

And then followed a few seconds wherein he wasn't capable of thinking.

_Shit._

Ryoma thought of what his mother once told him when she was reading those bedtime stories to him when he was little. _There was a reason why the brain was placed above the heart_. As a child, those words didn't mean anything to him. He still wasn't the emotional type. But now it had its full effect.

He was aware of the hard work his forefathers put into making this company the success it was now. He wasn't going to be selfish and cowardly like his older brother and run away just because he couldn't take it. Though his father may be a bastard, Ryoma could see that beyond the porn magazines and the grinning face was a man striving to bring this company back to its feet.

He felt cornered.

Ryoma knew it wasn't much of a choice than an option. It was mandatory.

_Sakuno._

_No._

He had to forget about her. A pang in his chest refused but he brushed it aside. Ryoma had to lock away everything in his memories that reminded him of her. He was going to take this like a man, not an immature, little boy who would run away again. He had to accept this defeat gracefully, like the way of a Japanese warrior, like his father had taught him.

The pain in his chest grew stronger.

It was hard.

But his willpower was harder.

He looked up.

The air was still.

Black eyes met yellow.

"Fine," he spat.

**-o0o-**

"Are you a hundred percent _sure_ you know where we're going?"

Eiji took his eyes off the road for a quick moment to glare at Tomoka who was raising a threatening eyebrow at him. "It says in the directions 'Take the ramp toward Blossom highway and merge into CA-14 North,'" he said, focusing his eyes back on the road.

"Makes me wonder why the directions and the freeway we're in don't match," Tomoka snapped back as she checked the printout again. "Where the _hell_ are we?"

Sakuno peeked her head in between the two front seats and gazed at the unfamiliar surroundings ahead of them. The asphalt road was almost completely empty except for them and a couple of cars here and there. She frowned. "Eiji, you do know what you're up to, right?" she asked the driver.

Smiling, Eiji twisted the wheel and slipped into the far right lane, posing to enter a non-existent exit. "We're taking a shortcut, girls," he said as he turned again.

The car was dissolved into darkness when the freeway lights passed them. They rounded a very sharp turn that Sakuno hit her head painfully against the window. This lasted for about fifteen seconds before they emerged into a quiet intersection where Eiji hit the brakes, waiting for the signal. Sakuno rubbed her head where it hurt.

"What the hell are you _doing_?" Tomoka asked, slapping Eiji on the shoulder. The man yelped.

"We're taking a shortcut, like I said!" he said, edging away from the frantic woman beside him. "MapQuest said that we should go through Blossom highway but that takes up too much time since it's as good as driving around the California border—"

"And what makes you think that this is the right way?" demanded Tomoka, looking at Sakuno for support. "If we get lost we don't have the slightest idea how to get back home! I don't know this neighborhood!"

The light turned green and Eiji stepped on the gas again. He turned right and the car started revving down the dark street dotted with what looked like—

Tennis courts?

Sakuno stared. _Eiji was right..._

Eiji switched the front lights to high to get a better of view of where they were going. "You're probably gonna kill me for not saying this sooner, but..." He exhaled, getting himself ready of the pain he might get from Tomoka. "My father used to work for the Echizen's."

Sakuno looked away from the window. _Really?_

Tomoka's eyes widened. Her reaction was expected.

"What?!" She landed a punch on Eiji's bicep, almost making the car do a 360-degree turn as they made another right. "We've been on and off about this whole Echizen thing and you never told us that your father _worked_ for them?!"

"Tomoka, stop it or you're gonna kill all of us—" Sakuno grabbed Tomoka by the wrist.

Eiji cringed from the pain. But he dismissed it being the gentleman that he was. "_Used_ to work for them," he cleared it out. "He brought me with him to his meeting sometimes when my mom was too busy taking care of my brothers and sisters. That's why I know this shortcut."

Tomoka blinked twice.

"Now, can you stop being such a butch and keep quiet?" he told Tomoka as he slowed down to a curve. They were on an uphill road now. It was only for a few feet before it began running downhill.

Tomoka was silent.

_Oh my God_.

Eyes rounding for the second time, Sakuno noticed a wide building that was stretched out across from them just around ten yards away. Her nose was pressed against the tinted window as she marveled at the beautiful mansion that they were slowly closing into. Sakuno had seen the Eiffel Tower and the _Louvre_, but nothing would ever compare to this.

The whole structure was patterned just like the White House in D.C., only it seemed to glow as the huge spotlights from the ornate, outstretched lawn beamed at him, making it sparkle. The building was framed in gold. Gold, for Heaven's sake. Even at a distance, Sakuno could tell that it was real. There was even a fountain that she estimated to be roughly about the size of her apartment.

It was the biggest mansion she had ever seen, if not the most extravagant.

"We're here," Eiji said finally as he switched off the engine and smiled at the looks on both women's faces.

"Wow," Sakuno and Tomoka said in unison.

It took Eiji a few moments to get their attention. He watched with amusement as both their faces dropped when they realized what they went here for. Quickly, they scrambled to get out of the vehicle and look at Eiji inquisitively.

"Where are all the guards?" Sakuno asked him quietly. "They should be mobbing us right now for trespassing or something."

Eiji put a finger to his chin and gazed up the sky. "Oddly, the Echizens' estate doesn't have very strict security measures if you try to break in from the back."

"This is just the backyard?" Tomoka asked, finding what she saw hard to believe. "No way. Sakuno, you _bitch_, you got it made!" She hooked an arm around the other woman and pulled her into a hug. More like strangled her.

_I wonder if he's in there right now_, Sakuno thought as she fought her way out of Tomoka's grasp and looked with awe at the mansion in front of them. She couldn't call it a house since it didn't look like a home to her. _So this is where he really lived_. That, for her, was implausible.

Eiji voice snapped her out her thoughts. "C'mon," he said, walking towards the high bushes which framed the well-kept Bermuda grass. "I even used to play tennis with that kid. I know this place like the back of my hand."

**-o0o-**

Sakuno wondered with amazement as to how Eiji had led them to sneak into the mansion without the alarms or security systems going off. She had always thought that Eiji had a bit of a cat instinct inside him. The way his ears tingled when he sensed something abnormal, the way his nose twitched when he smelled coffee, even the way pouted made him look like a member of the feline species.

This was one other trait she should add on her list.

From the way it looked, they were in the servant's kitchen now. It was still dark even though the nightlights from the walls gave off an eerie glow that made her skin look white. A shiver ran up her spine.

"I can't believe we're doing this just for your boyfriend," Tomoka whispered to Sakuno as they tiptoed in one line, hand-in-hand across the large, shiny countertop, careful not to touch or break anything that would cause a ruckus. Eiji was first, followed by Tomoka, and finally Sakuno.

The woman in the back of the line narrowed her eyes dangerously. "I never asked you to come in the first place," she hissed silently, narrowly avoiding a huge wok hanging from the ceiling. "This is my problem to begin with—"

"You'd think I'd let you sneak around alone? This is the biggest scoop the _Times_ will ever get. No one from the press has been in here before—"

"You what, shut up," Eiji murmured to them. He let go of Tomoka's hand and began fiddling with the lock of the door they came across. It most probably led to the dining area. "You're gonna get us into trouble if you don't."

"Tomoka started it—!" Sakuno persisted, keeping her voice low.

"I did _not_!"

"Did to!"

"Did _not_!"

"Okay," Eiji said with slight irritation. "Do you want to do this or not?" he asked them, his voice husky.

"Of course we do!" both women said at the same time.

"Good, then, shut up and let me work in peace so we can get in, find the guy, and get out in one piece," he said in one breath. Both women did what they were told for once.

He turned his back on them as he resumed with the giant padlock that kept the door closed securely. A few minutes passed as Eiji busied himself with a piece of wire he picked up from somewhere before they heard a click. He let out a sigh of relief.

Slowly turning the lever, he held out his hand which Tomoka took reluctantly. "Keep quiet, stay close, don't touch anything," he whispered before tiptoeing through the open doorway.

When they entered, Sakuno tried her best to not let a gasp escape from her lips as she gawked at the Victorian style setting of the Echizens' dining room. The lights were still quite dim but it was enough for her to see the shelves and shelves full of exotic porcelain and the renaissance paintings that were hung across the walls. It was a breathtaking sight, like getting inside a museum for the first time. She could sense Tomoka getting the same feeling as they trudged silently across the room and towards another door at the end of the hall.

But the all froze instantly when they heard a female voice behind them. Sakuno felt her knees almost giving away as Tomoka's grip on her hand faltered.

"Stop right where you are."

**-o0o-**

The three of them let go of each others' hands and straightened up. Sakuno fought the urge to run for her life as the woman spoke again.

"I have a gun and I perfectly know how to use it," she said icily. "Now, put your hands up in the air and turn around, _slowly_."

Almost at the same time they raised their open palms and turned their bodies around to face the woman. Tomoka had her eyes closed. Eiji face looked like he had seen a ghost. Sakuno was praying in her head.

_Grandma, I'm sorry for every stupid thing I ever did..._

She dared to look up and gazed at the face of the woman emanating against the soft lights from the dimmed lamps. Her narrowed eyes were brown like Sakuno's, her hair the same color but it was twisted into a neat bun around her head. She was in a flowing nightgown and robe at hugged her slim body. There was a handgun pointed at their faces but Sakuno couldn't help but notice that the woman was stunningly beautiful.

Her voice, unlike before, shook. "What do you want?" she asked them, steadying her grip on the gun. "I'll call the cops if you don't leave right now."

Eiji had the guts to speak up. "We don't mean any harm, ma'am," he said as tried to give her a warm smile. He failed. "We just wanted to talk to Ryoma Echizen—"

Sakuno shivered again. _Wrong answer!_

"What do you want from my son?" she interrupted him sharply, focusing the gun at pointblank range on Eiji who cowered. "Are you the police? My husband already gave you people money so if you want to keep your job you'd leave my son alone..."

Her voice faltered as her gaze on Eiji's bandaged face deepened. The woman's eyes widened, loosing all traces of anger. Miraculously, she lowered the pistol. Sakuno and Tomoka were confused but let out a breath they'd been holding for the past minutes. It felt like an eternity.

"Eiji...?" the woman's voice was unsure. She lifted the end of her statement like a question.

Sakuno eyes shifted from her to the cat-like grin mixed with a frown playing on Eiji's face. _Wait a minute, what's going on?_ All the fear she felt from having a gun pointed at her ebbed away.

A few moments passed them by before Eiji let out a short chuckle and smiled.

"Uhm... Hi, Mrs. Echizen," he said, scratching the back of his head, embarrassed. "It's been a while."

**-o0o-**

Sakuno considered Eiji Kikumaru their lucky star the rest of the early morning that they spent in the Echizens' mansion. It impressed her to the point that she wanted to kiss the guy even if she knew that he would call the cops to arrest her for sexual harassment. She stopped herself in time.

They would've been lying dead, sprawled in a cold pave somewhere by now if it weren't for him.

Turned out, Prince's — Ryoma's — mother was a very kind person once she hastily tucked the gun inside the holster that she kept around her right calf. Her reunion with her son's childhood best friend immediately commenced the moment she led the three of them into an unexpectedly humble visitor's lounge where she left them but returned soon, carrying a tray with cups and a hot pot of green tea.

Sakuno tried her best not to stare when Mrs. Echizen sat down on the couch across the very cozy sofa that she, Tomoka, and Eiji were on. She looked to be about her late forties but she still looked striking. She kind of looked like Prince — Ryoma — in some angles.

_I guess good looks run in the family_, she thought absentmindedly.

Tomoka elbowed her and grinned.

"You've gotten bigger," Mrs. Echizen said, looking at Eiji curiously as she began pouring tea. "The last time I saw you, you barely came to my shoulder," she added with a motherly smile as she handed them their cups.

Tomoka and Sakuno too it from her and muttered a soft 'Thank you.' She smiled at them too.

Eiji tried his best to look anything but self-conscious as he gave her his signature, cat-like grin. "That was more than ten years ago, Mrs. Echizen," he said, blushing slightly. "I'm amazed that you still remember me."

"How could I forget you," she said as she crossed her ankles and placed her entwined fingers on her lap. "Besides his brother, you're the only real friend Ryoma's ever had. It's just a pity your father had to retire so early," she added good-naturedly.

_He kind of looks like his mother when he softens his face... _Sakuno thought.

"Yeah, well, he was getting old anyway," Eiji replied, trying to laugh, but soon falling silent again as he twirled the tea in his cup uncomfortably.

"And who're your friends?" she said, shifting her warm gaze at the Sakuno and Tomoka, who both gave her a friendly smile.

Eiji straightened up in his seat, suddenly remembering that the two women were there. He looked at the pointedly as though warning them not to refuse. "I'll let them introduce themselves," he said as he nudged Tomoka in the ribs, causing the other to slightly wince in pain.

"_Hai_," Tomoka piped up, putting her teacup down on the table and holding out her hand. "Tomoka Osakada, currently a columnist for the _Los Angeles Times_."

Mrs. Echizen took her hand smiled back. She then looked at Sakuno.

She blushed slightly but quickly regained herself. It felt kind of weird seeing Ryoma's mother especially after... "Sakuno Ryuuzaki," she introduced, shaking the other woman's hand. "Same thing, _Los Angeles Times_ columnist."

_Actually, I wrote an article about your son during my better days as a journalist. And actually, I had sex with him. And actually, I think I may be in love with him—_

_Stop it_, Sakuno mentally slapped herself before she accidentally blurted the words out of her mouth.

Mrs. Echizen frowned as she slowly let go of Sakuno's hand. "Sakuno...?" she echoed softly as she looked with great intent at the woman sitting in front of her. Sakuno suddenly felt very conscious about everything.

_Why is she looking at me like that?_ She fiddled with the hem of the sleeves of her jacket and tried to hold her gaze steady with hers. _This is so not comfortable_...

"Did you say your name is Sakuno?" she repeated, looking at Sakuno as though she was her long-lost child. That would be a worst-case scenario.

Sakuno blinked. She then nodded hesitantly. _Why is she looking at me like that...?_

Mrs. Echizen seemed to snap out of her trance after a few moments and turned to look at Eiji. "You said you wanted to talk to my son," she said to him, breaking the silence.

Eiji nodded as she settled his finished cup on the table. He didn't say anything, afraid that it might touch a gentle issue, but Mrs. Echizen didn't seem to mind.

"He's upstairs in his room, sleeping," she said, her face softening a bit. She paused before speaking again. "I'm sure you've heard about the news of his disappearance," she continued, her voice low but nonetheless comforting.

"Yes, we did," Tomoka said with a proud beam. "Sakuno and I wrote an article about it in the _Times_ a few days ago." She looked at the frozen woman beside her. "Right, Sakuno?"

Forcing herself to smile, Sakuno gave a weak nod as she tightened her grip around the small cup. "Yes, we did."

Mrs. Echizen gave her a calculating look again. Sakuno wanted to melt like molten wax that instant as the older woman's eyes bore into hers. "I'm sure you found out beforehand that he did return quite recently, being people who worked for the newspaper," she said. "The news hasn't released anything about him yet."

_And I'd like to add that, actually, I didn't have to be a paper columnist to figure that out because your son mugged me one night and I haven't been able to get him out of my mind ever since_—

"I was wondering," Sakuno said, looking at her unfinished tea to avoid making eye contact with Mrs. Echizen. "How is he doing?" she asked her with the most nonchalant voice she could muster.

Everyone in the room looked surprised by her question. It was too late before Sakuno realized that it was too personal for someone who doesn't know that she and the supposed heir had something to do with each other.

_Damn you, blabber mouth._

Mrs. Echizen looked even more suspicious. It was the first time in the past half-hour that she looked at Sakuno with inkling. But her tone of voice didn't betray it. She shrugged. "Since I know you people live on the latest news," she said, considering. "I'll let you in on a little secret."

Eiji's ears twitched as Tomoka listened to her heart's content. Sakuno just sat still, anxiously looking at the woman who spoke in the softest possible voice that it was almost impossible to hear.

But she did.

"Ryoma's getting married tomorrow."

The teacup fell from Sakuno's grasp and shattered on the floor.

**-o0o-**

**Author's note**: That was the longest chapter yet. WOW. I can't believe I finished that in six hours. Lol. Usually, it takes me about a day to finish something this long, but what the heck! My classes start in five hours and I haven't had a wink of sleep yet. :D So there. Please read and review, okay? See you guys on Friday when I get back from school. Take care. :D


	15. CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Hidden

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: I'm back:D Darn it, feels like I've been away for ages. Lol. :D I haven't been able to write anything for the past three days and it's kind of hard to get back in sync. So there. I'm glad you guys liked my little cliffhanger. Lol. :D And I hope you'll find this new chapter no less interesting. (I have no idea how I wrote this.)

-**oOo**-

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

_Hidden_

Ryoma Echizen stared at the overly decorated 18-karat gold chandelier dangling in the middle of ceiling. He watched as a small, black moth fluttered innocently around absurd piece of furniture, its wings blurry to his sight. This routine went on for a few more minutes when the moth, contented with itself, landed exactly on one of the light bulbs.

He watched with his trademark nonchalance when the miniscule insect got electrocuted as the bulb gave a silent crack. It drifted lifelessly towards the floor and landed silently to its deathbed on the rug.

_Idiot_, Ryoma thought as he cranked up the volume of his iPod. _Though getting burned to death doesn't seem so bad right now…_

'_I think I made it a game to play your game and let myself cry._

_I buried myself alive on the inside, so I could shut you out,_

_And let you go away for a long time...'_

_How I wish everything would go away_, he thought as he stared at the dead moth on the rug. He shifted his weight on the bed and placed his hands behind his head. Ryoma felt like the stupid insect got it way better than he did. He paused. No, it _did_ get it way better than he did.

Ryoma never felt so pathetic in his entire existence. More pathetic than when he was a lowlife thief who didn't have a past or a future, when he was living in an old garage, when he scavenged the darkened streets of midnight, when he had to steal from others just to get by.

'_I guess it's okay, I puked the day away._

_I guess it's better you trapped yourself in your own way.'_

He heaved out a sigh.

Four hours have gone by since Nanako left his room, leaving himself to get devoured by his unrelenting thoughts of _maybe_'s or _what if_'s. It had also been that long since he had unwillingly given out his word of accepting the fact that he _had_ to say 'I do' to a woman whom he'd rather say 'I fucking don't.'

Something unseen stabbed him in his chest.

As much as he wanted to push those beautiful brown eyes and long, silky hair out of his head, he couldn't. Reformatting a laptop proved to be much easier, he concluded.

_Now, why wasn't I born a laptop?_ he asked the gods, knowing well that he wasn't going to get a reply. Ryoma groaned and pulled the earphones buried in his ears. Without hesitation, he angrily flung his damned MP3 player across the room.

He watched dispassionately as it landed on the open drawer. It was where he had aimed it.

"Pinpoint precision as usual."

Ryoma whirled around to someone at door. His annoyance ebbed a little, if not by much, when he recognized who it was. Not that he was pleased when he did.

"What do you want." He droned, following his older brother with his death glare.

Ryoga didn't seem to notice this as he leaned coolly on the wall across from Ryoma. They were a few meters apart but he could tell there was a smirk tugging at the edge of the other's lips.

"Just wanted to check on you," Ryoga said as he crossed his arms.

Ryoma snorted, resuming his previous position. Hands behind his head. "Yeah, right." Though he warmed up a little when he had heard the words. If there was someone in this twisted family whom he could run to without fear of rejection, it was Ryoga.

Chuckling, the older man looked at his little brother with interest. "You don't wanna go through with this," he said.

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "Tch," he said with disgust, eyeing the other man like he was a cat dropping in his perfectly-manicured lawn. "How would you know."

"You're my little brother," he said, his expression unflinching. Ryoga's face was as blank as the wall behind him. "I know you better than you think."

_Is that why you left me to deal with everything?_ Ryoma sat up and propped himself to a cross-legged position on the bed. "You know what, if you pity me so much, why don't _you_ go get married to that whore?" he spat as he fought every urge to lunge himself at his brother.

Ryoma's aura didn't changed a bit. But the smirk disappeared completely. "It's not too late to say no," he said, his voice as void as his face. "You can still run like you did before—"

"_That_ was a mistake," Ryoma interjected sharply. He was loosing his cool. "I may be your brother, but I'm not like you—"

"Oh, that's why you took off just a few months after I did—"

"I told you, that was a mistake—" Ryoma cut his sentence short and inhaled, realizing that he was short of breath. But it didn't help at all to soothe the mixed emotions he felt for his older brother. "Is that why you came here? To lecture me about what I should do with _my_ fucking life?"

Ryoga snorted. He probably thought Ryoma was acting like a teenager with a testosterone overload. "No," he said, changing his tone to a rather playful one. It brought the younger man's blood to a boil. "Actually, I wanted to tell you something."

Ryoma frowned. _What the hell is it this time?_

"A little snakey told big brother a little secret," he said, pretending to whisper to Ryoma behind his hand.

_What the hell—?_

It took him a couple of seconds before it sunk into his system. It felt like a ten-ton boulder dropping into his stomach. He swallowed a lump in his constricted throat.

_He knows._

_No way._

_Sakuno._

"Bastard," Ryoma whispered, thinking about Viper. _Of course he knew. He was the only one who ever saw us together._ His head then snapped up back at Ryoga. "Did you tell Mom?" he asked him, deadly anticipating his answer.

Ryoga smirked again. There was a playful glint dancing in his eyes as he slipped his hand inside the pocket of his leather coat. Ryoma didn't expect the answer that came out of his older brother's lips.

"Mom's talking to her right now."

-**oOo**-

"Ryoma's getting married tomorrow."

The teacup fell from Sakuno's grasp and fell on the floor. She was momentarily stunned but the sound of breaking china brought her back to her senses. "Oh my God," she breathed and immediately started scooping up the broken porcelain piece by piece. Tomoka and Eiji both looked at her with a horrified expression on their faces.

_Did I just hear that correctly? Or am I going deaf? Please tell me I'm my hearing's off—_

"Oh, no, no dear, that's fine," Mrs. Echizen snapped her finger in the air and one the servants came. "Let Mrs. Perkins do that. You might get cut," she said.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," Sakuno apologized as she straightened up. The maid swiftly swept the mess away in a few seconds and disappeared back into the door behind them. "I have a very weak grip, I'm really sorry..." She bowed her head but Mrs. Echizen waved her off.

She smiled. "It's okay, Sakuno," she said, "I hate this tea set anyway," she added as a reassurance.

Sakuno straightened up again, but her mind was anything but straight. She couldn't even bear to look at Mrs. Echizen's eyes. It wasn't because of the broken cup that probably cost thousands of dollars...

_Ryoma's... getting married...?_

Her whole body wanted to give away. The room was spinning around her.

Tomoka's brows furrowed. "Wait a sec, ma'am," Tomoka spoke up, her reporter instinct kicking in. "You mean to say you've already planned the wedding just after a couple of days after he came back?"

Eiji was eyeing Sakuno, though she barely noticed it. He could sense the woman faltering with each passing moment. Her usually complexion was now chalk-white and her eyes were unfocused. He wanted to make an excuse to make a run for it, but he couldn't.

Sakuno felt her closed fists shiver against her knees. Her fingers were as cold as ice. Her mind, seemingly kaput, was trying hard to grasp the bitter reality that was unfolding before her very eyes. She didn't even want to listen to Tomoka's voice. She wanted to get away, as far from this place as possible. Something was wrenching her heart out of her chest.

_He's getting married..._

"Well, to tell you honestly, Miss Osakada," Mrs. Echizen began. "We—his father and I—have been planning this for about four years now. It's just unfortunate that Ryoma suddenly ran away for some unknown reason."

Tomoka nodded slowly, her mind taking in everything like a sponge. "And who's the lucky girl, if it's okay to disclose?" she asked professionally.

Sakuno noticed Eiji's ears twitching. She couldn't care less who his fiancée was. To her, she felt like the floor beneath her was crumbling into dust. She could feel herself breaking down as well. Her thoughts were tearing every bit of her apart.

_I knew it was too good to be true..._

_I don't belong in place like this..._

_I don't belong to him..._

_He doesn't belong to me..._

_I shouldn't have come here in the first place..._

_This was all a big mistake..._

Mrs. Echizen gave a thought for a moment. "The bride-to-be is a daughter of a family friend," she said with a smile. "Ryoma has known her since they were little."

"Uh-huh..." Tomoka put a finger on her chin. Her curiosity was at its peak. "May I ask, is she Japanese or foreign?"

"Foreign," Mrs. Echizen replied briskly, as though she was very proud. She crossed her legs. "German father, American mother," she added.

_Please, Tomoka, I want to leave... Can't you keep your trap shut for a while...?_

Sakuno breathed in slowly, realizing that her chest was very heavy, like she was submerged in water. She felt like she was drowning with every word she heard.

_I'm gonna throw up_—

"Excuse me, Mrs. Echizen?" she asked the woman who halted in mid-sentence.

The woman with illegible eyes paused to look at Sakuno, who was turning a sick shade of green. "Yes, dear?" she said, looking concerned.

"May I use the ladies' room, please?" Sakuno said, her stomach lurching. She could taste stomach acid in her mouth.

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Echizen said. "It the third door to your left once you make a right turn at the end of the hall."

_I can't hold this anymore_—

Sakuno nodded and disappeared sprinted outside the room and into the corridor, leaving a bewildered Eiji and a suspicious Tomoka behind. Mrs. Echizen was chattering away rapidly when she reached the door.

She clumsily scrambled her way through the decorated though deserted hallway adorned with tall, marble figurines and museum-quality paintings. She felt like someone punched her in the gut. She couldn't even feel her hands anymore.

_Make a right, third door to my left—_

She picked up her pace, her hand covering her watering mouth. _Oh, God, please let me make it to the bathroom_— Sakuno pivoted to her right sharply. She almost fell on her butt when she collided with something hard. Very hard.

_Oh, my God, please don't be something breakable_—

Surprised, she looked up and she found everything she had been looking for.

-**oOo**-

Or maybe not.

_Prince..._

Sakuno felt like she wanted to melt when she felt the familiar yellow eyes look at her with the same unexpected reaction she gave. His blank hair was in messy clumps on his head while his bare chest heaved like he had been running miles. Prince was shirtless, for God's sake. Sakuno swallowed. He was shirtless.

Her breath was knocked out of her.

But not her nausea.

Her eyes watered.

_So much for our 'first' meeting._

Without giving it a second thought—she even doubted that she could be able to hold it anymore—Sakuno doubled up emptied the sour contents of her stomach onto the unsuspecting rug that covered the corridor's floors.

"Whoa." Prince instinctively jumped back. He stayed in this position for some time, watching the woman

When she was done ruining the hand-embroidered carpeting, Sakuno straightened up and wiped her mouth clean on the sleeve of her jacket. She was well aware that 'unladylike' couldn't even begin to describe it. There was an orange, pasty substance on the rug that looked like it could sear flesh.

_All of the things he could've seen me done._

Sakuno faked a determined face.

_We'll see who has the last laugh._

_I'm not gonna sound like a little fan girl running after a soon-to-be-wed pop idol._

Sakuno fixed her eyes on his. Judging from that expression, he wasn't in complete shock to see her trudging around his mansion and puking in his halls, but there was still a trace of confusion and tiny hint of amusement.

_Is that a smirk on his lips? Is that an actual smirk?_

"So," she began as though he was just a friend she came across in the city sidewalk. Sakuno placed her hands on her hips defensively. Her pride taking in control. "Congratulations." It was the first thing that came to her.

Ryoma raised an eyebrow at her. His lips were a flat line, betraying nothing. "What, is your puke made of gold?" he said plainly.

_What?_ Sakuno returned his gesture. This guy was unbelievable to such extent that she bit her lip until it hurt. "Don't get wise with me, _Ryoma_," she spat.

"So, you finally know how I really am." Ryoma's face was as impassive as ever.

Sakuno rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you're a stuck-up rich kid who's going to get married to another stuck-up rich kid."

Ryoma didn't seem to have heard her. The man eyed her sweaty, sticky face. He grinned. "Get cleaned up," he said, jerking his head to the door beside them. "You look like hell."

Sakuno's cheeks turned a pale shade of red. _You're getting married. Of course I'd look like hell._ She fixed her eyes on his ruffled hair, well-muscled abs, and pajamas. Not that she minded seeing him like this. She actually found rather sexy— "You don't look so bad yourself," she said sarcastically. "Now, if you don't mind—"

She was cut short when Ryoma grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bathroom.

-**oOo**-

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Ryoma asked once he made sure the door was shut. His tone was serious as he looked at her with disbelieving eyes.

Sakuno felt her breath being taken away again. It never failed.

The walls she had worked so hard on were crumbling to her feet.

She swallowed her pride. It proved to be much easier.

_I missed you so much..._

She was getting lost in his yellow orbs that it took her a while before she found the words to say. But it wasn't exactly _the_ words that she was hoping for. They had slipped out of her tongue before she knew.

"I came to see you."

_Uh-oh._

_Busted!_

Her flushed face became redder. _No, that's not what I meant—!_

Ryoma looked slightly appalled. But he waved it off and ran a hand through his hair and leaned his back onto the shower door, his gaze still on her. "You shouldn't be here." His tone was flat, but the way he looked at her told her something more.

She sighed.

_I know I shouldn't._

Sakuno knew what he meant, bit it didn't ease the pain inside her chest. It was agonizing. Her eyes watered slightly when her emotions became almost unbearable. "I, uh," she began, unsure of what to say. "I heard about the wedding." She wanted to cry. Getting mad at him wouldn't change anything anyway.

Sakuno felt as if there was a gravitational pull between the two of them. She wanted to run into his arms and cry. She wanted to tell him everything that went so horribly wrong since he was taken away. She wanted to tell him not to pull through with the wedding. She wanted to tell him that she—

_I hate you for making me feel this way._

"Tch." Ryoma was silent for a few seconds before he heaved out a heavy sigh. "My mom told you, didn't she?" he asked, deadpan.

_Obviously._ Sakuno looked down on the tiled floor to make an excuse not to see his eyes. It was painful. She nodded slowly. _No, I don't hate you. I could never hate you. Even when you chose some other woman over me._ "I heard it's tomorrow," she said, trying to cover everything up with a smile. She looked up.

Ryoma's eyes were gazing at hers. They were glazed with something as unreadable as his face. He crossed his arms on his chest as though trying to conceal something he'd rather keep for himself. "You look beautiful," he said out of the blue.

Sakuno was taken aback. She even gasped a little. Her knees felt like they turned to water. Butterflies were happily fluttering in her stomach again. _Beautiful?_ She felt anything but beautiful. Sakuno felt another pang in her chest.

"W-what—?"

Her sentence was cut short, yet again, as his lips came crashing onto hers.

-**oOo**-

**Author's Note**: I'm sorry it took so long before I updated again. Schoolwork here, there, and everywhere. God, help me. :\ I hope you liked it though. I'll try to squeeze in another chapter before the weekend finishes. :D Thank you for those who still reviewed even when I stopped my daily updates. I love you all. :D **P.S.** The song featured in the beginning of this chapter is "Buried Myself Alive" by _The Used_. :D


	16. CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Torn

**RAINDROPS  
**_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic  
_By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: Would I sound totally bogus if I tell you guys that I'm in love with my social sciences professor? Oh God, I _am_ crazy. He's twelve years older than me (but doesn't look like it), happily married with an adorable son, has political know-how that would make George Bush look thick and a smile that would make my knees evaporate into nothingness. Help me. I need a therapist. :

Anyway, here's the next chapter. Again, I hope you guys like this. :) I had a serious case of mental block over the week and I couldn't come up with a nice way to make the ends meet. But I think I finally did. :D Big fluff at the end. It's kind of lemony. Don't like, don't read. My first lemon. Lol. :D

**-oOo- **

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
**_Torn_

"_It's decided then, Nanjirou_."

The CEO smirked and put his feet up on his desk. "Yes, it's final Heinrich," he said, looking at the paperwork before him. _As smoothly as planned_. "We'll be leaving for New York tomorrow morning."

The man on the other line was uncomfortably silent for a few seconds. "_Are you sure your son is fine with a civil wedding?_" Heinrich asked. "_Hannah doesn't really prefer a church wedding either._"

"That won't be a problem," Nanjirou replied. "We don't want to publicize everything."

Heinrich chuckled. "_Yes, the corporate world tabloids will be chasing after us for months_."

Laughing, the other man sat up straight and took a photo frame in his hands and gazed at the young boy looking at him from behind the glass. A weak surge of guilt lit up inside him. _You can hate me for this, but it's for your own good, son_. The grin on his lips faded away.

"Damn it, I remembered when I got married to Rinko," he said. "I felt like ground meat. Paparazzi were everywhere."

Heinrich laughed. "_So, what time will we be expecting you and your family? I presume you'll head straight to our estate once you've arrived_," he said with courteousness.

Nanjirou considered for a moment. "Around nine o'clock, give or take a few minutes," he answered as he put the picture back where he picked it up.

"_I'll send the limousine to the airport an hour before just in case your flight arrives early,_" Heinrich said. "_Dulles airport, gate number three, am I correct?_"

"Yes, we'll be arriving in a private jet a day and a half from today," Nanjirou said, twirling around in his office chair.

"_Have a safe trip._"

"See you, then."

Nanjirou ended the call and flipped his mobile phone close before characteristically placing hands behind his head in thought. He then lifted his legs up and onto his worktable again.

_This is going to be more painful for me than it is for you_, he thought silently, shifting his gaze toward the picture on his desk. _You're still a child._

-**oOo**-

Tomoka was growing restless with every passing minute. Her cover-up was doing its job keeping Mrs. Echizen occupied with answering every question she threw at her. The problem came when she was running out of things to say.

It had been about ten minutes since Sakuno left for the bathroom, which was too long for her to do her business there. Tomoka wasn't dumb. She had known the girl for years. Her woman's intuition was telling her that her best friend was up to something else that didn't concern anything that had to do with the bathroom.

This was bad.

They had to get out of here.

"...and Ryoma followed just a few years after his older brother..."

Trying to nod convincingly at Mrs. Echizen's unheard answer, Tomoka tried to pry another inquiry out of her system but failed. "Okay..." was all she could say. There was a very awkward silence that followed.

Eiji's ears started twitching every so often. His eyes were glancing to Mrs. Echizen and back to Tomoka, indicating that he had sensed the building tension between them. His face remained calm though his gestures were in the brink of panicking.

_Uh-oh_. Tomoka swallowed a lump in her throat.

Mrs. Echizen's brows furrowed. "Sakuno's taking a long time," she said, making the other two flinch. "You think she's alright? She didn't look fine when she left."

Tomoka forced a smile that spelled 'okay.' "She's probably fine ma'am," she said, thinking of an acceptable excuse. "She always takes that long when she's in the washroom. You know, fixing up and all."

_Please buy my lame excuse._

Eiji's face twitched.

The older woman still looked suspicious, but she shrugged it off. "I'm sorry, I've been ranting on and on," she said with a small laugh. "It's already half-past two in the morning, you must be exhausted. And I just remembered there's something really important I have to do."

Yawning slightly, Eiji gave an apologetic smile. His eyes were half-closed as he scratched his nose in a very cat-like manner. "Actually, I haven't had any decent sleep in days," he said with a grin.

_What are we gonna do? Where are you Sakuno?_ Tomoka wanted to hit Eiji on the arm again in sheer desperation. _What the hell are you doing wandering off?_

"There's an available guestroom in the west wing. I'll ask one of the servants to escort you there," Mrs. Echizen said as the helper scooped up the tea and porcelain. "It's not really very safe driving around this time of the day," she added, very mother-like.

Tomoka sighed. _That'll give me more time to find her._

"What about your friend?" Mrs. Echizen asked. "Do you want me to send one of the servants to look for her? She might get lost. People get lost in here all the time. It's too big..."

"Uh, no, that won't be necessary, ma'am," Tomoka interjected rather sharply. "You said third door on the left once you make a right. We'll go check on her. We can call her on her phone if ever she got lost; please don't bother yourself."

Mrs. Echizen nodded. "I'm sorry for cutting our conversation short," she said, checking on her wristwatch. "I need to make a very important call right now. There are servants on duty just in case. Please make yourselves at home." She smiled.

Eiji returned the gesture and gave the frantic Tomoka a reassuring look. "Thank you, ma'am, for your hospitality," he said. "We're sorry for the burden."

"It's fine, really," the woman replied, standing up and walking towards the door where the servants enter and leave. "Go to the end of the hall, make right, third door to your left," she reminded them, smiling. "If there's any problem, there's a call button on every end of the corridor. Press it and a servant will be there to help."

The two nodded, trying to look as calm as possible.

"Get some sleep," Mrs. Echizen said before disappearing into the doorway.

Tomoka's instincts kicked in. She looked at Eiji who looked like he was solving at a calculus problem he couldn't get.

_We're in deep shit_.

-**oOo**-

Sakuno pulled back, horrified. She lifted her hands to cover her lips as her chocolate eyes rounded. _Oh my God_.

Confusion on his face, Ryoma looked at her, his face hovering inches from hers as he encircled his arms around her waist. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

The woman stared at him for a few seconds before she spoke. "Do you have Listerine in here?" she asked behind her hand. A faint hue of pink was on her cheeks. "Blame your mom's tea." _This is so embarrassing_.

Ryoma chuckled before he stepped back. "There's a bottle in the medicine cabinet," he said, watching her curiously as she turned her back and busied herself.

Sakuno concluded that her luck had abandoned her for good. She had completely forgotten of Tomoka and Eiji waiting for her in the tearoom and the fact that this man was getting married the next day. Her thoughts were clouded as she gargled the green liquid, feeling the stinging sensation in her mouth.

_You should get going_, her more-logical side scolded her.

_This might be the last time I'll get to see him_, another voice said. _There's no way I'm running away from this._

There was a swooping sensation in her stomach.

Sakuno spat out the mouthwash and got a paper towel. She wiped her lips clean and faced Ryoma, smirking at her with a playful glint in his cat-like, golden eyes, arms crossed. Just the sight made her knees wobble.

"You done?" he asked her teasingly, his deep voice made her want to swoon.

Sakuno lips partly opened when her eyes fell on his bare, well-muscled stomach. She swallowed. _Get a grip on yourself_. "Yeah," she said, feeling the gravitational pull between their bodies. She smiled back.

"Good." Ryoma walked up to her and pulled her into his arms. Sakuno felt like butter against his warm body. He gently planted a kiss on her forehead. "'Cause I'm not."

_That felt nice..._

A soft sigh escaped her as she tilted her head up, lightly brushing her lips against his. He smirked impishly as she wrapped her arms around his torso. _But this isn't right..._ "You're getting married," she breathed, her eyes half-lidded and waning. Tears were threatening to pour down her cheeks.

_I... I lo—_

Ryoma tightened his hug to the point where she could barely breathe. Sakuno didn't mind though. "I know, I know," he whispered before kissing her closed eyelids and resting his chin on her head. "Don't think about that."

Sakuno buried her face in his neck, letting the woody scent of his skin intoxicate her. The angular shapes of his body fitted perfectly with her soft, tender curves that it was almost impossible to think they weren't meant for each other. She felt her knees giving away.

_Ryoma..._

_I want to stay like this forever..._

She lifted her head up to look at him; she couldn't hold it anymore. Hot trails of tears fell down her face as her lips shook uncontrollably. It was painful to talk but she wanted to say the only word that made everything seem better. "Ryoma..."

Without hesitation, he closed in on her and pressed his lips against hers.

Sakuno felt electricity shoot through her nerves, her eyelids fluttering close. The familiar, hot sensation she had longed for so long spread through her like wildfire as she opened her mouth under his to welcome his deepening kiss.

_Wow_—

He was hungry for her, she could tell. Ryoma pressed his body against her a little too forcefully that Sakuno winced in pain when her lower back hit the sink. But she didn't mind. Sakuno moaned against his soft lips when his tongue entered her mouth, tasting her insides. A giggle escaped her. Despite loosing his memories, and getting them back, he was an amazing kisser. Her head was spinning as she desperately held onto him for dear life.

Ryoma smirked at her reaction and lick her lower lip before trailing gentle kisses down her chin and to her neck where he greedily sunk his teeth into her skin. Sakuno let out a yelp of pain that gradually became gasps of pleasure when he sucked on her. Sakuno tilted her head back and unconsciously opened her mouth. "Ryoma..." she said breathlessly, tracing her open palms down his shoulder blades and up across his muscled chest. A groan sounded at the back of his throat.

His hands were on her sides, drinking in the suppleness of her curves as his mouth reclaimed her lips once more. He kissed her impatiently as though he had waited for this his entire existence. Sakuno noticed that he was the complete opposite of the gentle, calm man who made love to her a few nights before. But it wasn't like she minded. His aggressiveness was fueling the torrent of emotions she was feeling, lighting up an immortal passion inside her.

_Oh God_...

Ryoma was working on pulling her turtleneck top off her. His rough hands were grazing the bare skin of her small stomach, taking the light material of her blouse with them, even lightly running over the lumps of her breasts. Sakuno was surprised that he managed to remove her jacket without her noticing it. She pressed her lips harder on his and let his tongue do the magic on hers. Slowly, she lifted her arms up and pulled back a little so that he can take off the only thing that separated his skin from hers.

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks when she felt Ryoma's mischievous eyes on every bit of newly-exposed, porcelain skin. Sakuno could tell that his thoughts were anything but chaste. She tried to control a shiver of pleasure as he kissed her again, one of his hands trailing on her sides and playing with the pink lace of her bra and the other slowly working its way up and down her backbone. She moaned again, her own fingers tracing his strong, hard biceps.

Ryoma pressed his groin against her hips and chuckled in between kisses when Sakuno squealed a little at the bold gesture. She wanted him. She wanted to feel him moving inside her. Never did Sakuno want a man like she wanted him. She was on the brink of desperation. She wanted him—

She gave another groan. It was a plea.

His hands traveled down to the buttons of her jeans and quickly undid them. He then unzipped it and let it drop to the floor. Sakuno was thankful she wore loose pants. It made everything much easier. She groaned a little too loudly against his moving lips when she felt one of his fingers rubbing her between her legs, teasing her through the thin fabric. She scratched her nails down his back where she left red marks. A knot was forming inside her, threatening to explode—

Ryoma's other hand was busying itself with undoing the clasp of her bra behind her. He couldn't wait any longer, she noticed, and did the liberty of doing it for him. She felt a scream from him as his hands pulled the undergarment off her and flung it across the bathroom. She couldn't suppress another giggle. She liked seeing him like this.

He kissed and licked her skin as he traveled down towards her breasts. Sakuno let out a gasp as he enclosed a hot mouth over one of her aching peaks. Another jolt of electricity shot through her, making her blood reach boiling point. She threw her head back as she ran her hands into his messy, black hair. "Ryoma..." she breathed out his name over and over as he teased her with tongue and teeth. A pain was starting to build up where it felt wet.

_Please..._

Ryoma seemed to heed her cries and headed lower, still kissing and licking as he went. His tongue circled her navel before biting the hem of her underwear and pulling it down with full strength, leaving Sakuno completely bare to him. She saw him smirk playfully as he traced his lips up the insides of her creamy, white thighs and into the depths of her sweet secrets.

A groan escaped Sakuno lips as she felt his tongue against the walls of her insides. He moved in and out as she gripped his hair, as though letting go would kill her. Sakuno felt it coming, her bomb was ticking. Her gasps became short and shallow, her knees giving away, her body on fire. Ryoma spread her legs further as Sakuno held onto the sink for much-needed support. The room was spinning against her half-lidded eyes.

_Don't stop..._

She shuddered with every flex of his tongue. Within seconds, she let out a final cry as her climax crashed over her, draining her of all her strength and tension. Her fragile body almost collapsed if it weren't for Ryoma who instantly caught her in his arms. Again, he was flashing his trademark smirk.

"Feel good?" he asked her, looking into her glazed, brown orbs.

Sakuno gave a tired nod and smiled. She felt slightly embarrassed when she realized that she completely lost her control. He was an animal. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

"Good," he said, proceeding to remove his pajamas. He dropped the discarded piece of clothing to the floor. Sakuno eyes widened at what she saw. He then encirciled his arms around the small of her waist. "'Cause I'm still not done yet."

_What—?_

In a graceful sweep, he lifted Sakuno up onto the sink's countertop and closed in on her. His lips started attacking her neck as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips. His kisses traveled up to reclaim her mouth again. She screamed against his lips when she felt Ryoma slip his hard member into her. He was too fast. She cringed slightly at the pain. She felt like she was being ripped. "Ryoma..." she whispered, her voice hoarse. He immediately understood.

"I'm sorry," he muttered between kisses. He slowly applied a steady rhythm, not too fast but enough to let her know that the pain would go away. She gasped again as she rested her face in the hollow of his collarbone and ran her fingernails down his back in sheer desperation. Her cries of pain soon became ones of pleasure again. The sounds she was making fueled his passion as he sped up a bit. Their heated bodies were pressed against each other as one. Sakuno wanted this to last forever.

_Ryoma... Please..._

His teeth were gritted against one another as he let out a loud groan. He bit into her shoulder as she cried his name out with every thrust. Sakuno's brown hair was falling on his body as her feminine cologne filled his being. It was alcoholic. Ryoma picked up his pace. It wasn't painful anymore. Sakuno felt him coming.

She screamed as both of their bodies collapsed as the hot, unnamable sensation took them over, making her vision blurry, her gasping short. Her insides clenched against his as he let out with one final drive into her. Sakuno tilted her head in a fit. It felt so good. "Ryoma..."

His breathing was rough. She could even feel their hearts hammering against each other, threatening to breakout from their ribs. They stayed in this position for some time before Ryoma pulled back to look at her, his face tired but satiated. Beads of sweat fell from his forehead. Sakuno returned a weary smile as he lightly placed a small kiss on her lips before pulling back again.

_He's perfect_.

"Are you done?" she asked him this time, her voice barely a whisper. Her strength was completely drained out. She wrapped her arms around his torso and looked into his beautiful, golden eyes.

He smirked. Ryoma pushed her long, brown hair behind her ear kissed her on the forehead. She reached out for his free hand and linked their fingers together. The action somehow gave her comfort despite the millions of troubled thoughts running through her head. She tried not to think about it.

For now, everything felt right.

She was his. He was hers.

Sakuno smiled.

"Now, I am," he said sheepishly before kissing her again.

-**oOo**-

**Author's note**: OMFG. Okay, I take back what I said in chapter eight. THIS is the hardest chapter to write. Darn, it was my first lemon. It took me like two days to write that entire scene. And I just so totally pulled it out of my ass. Lol. :D So there, hope you guys liked it. :D Fluffy fluff for everyone. :D For now, I have to bid you guys goodbye because I'm heading back to school. I have to write a paper on an 80-something-page criminal case. Please do pray for my salvation. I love you all. Till next week. :D


	17. CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Alone

**RAINDROPS  
**_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic  
_By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: Thank you for the wonderful reviews everyone! hug My God, I thought that little love scene was a little too overdone. I love that you guys loved it. :) Yes, I think that it's kind of a little tragic. Don't worry, I'll try not to disappoint. :D

**HELL WEEK** (_n._) /hεl wik/ **1)** in college, the week before exam week when haggard-looking students cram for dear life, get caffeine overdose and perpetual eye bags, desperately try to pull GPAs as high as possible, chase professors faster than Speedy Gonzales, pay tuition installments instead of clubbing, cry like the apocalypse is nearing, resort to last-minute studying, etc.; **2)** _the_ exam week itself; and **3)** the time of the semester before students get piss drunk

**Reasons why my latest hell week ****sucks**:

1) My heel got caught on the steps of the bus while getting off. I scraped and bruised my left knee.

2) I totally spent all my ATM money to buy a new iPod nano, so I didn't have spare cash all week round.

3) I got into a fight with my roommate and we haven't talked since Friday.

4) I just found out that the guy of my dreams doesn't give a damn about me.

5) I had to crash into my best friend's place because I didn't make the dorm's curfew. (That was around 11PM Friday.)

6) I have no idea how I'm gonna pay my monthly dorm rental. (How I wish I was paid for my writing. LOL. Kidding.)

7) I got drunk with my friends last Friday and unconsciously spent the remainder of my cash on beer. (No, I am NOT an alcoholic.)

In lieu of prayers, please review.

**-oOo-**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN  
**_Alone_

Ryoga Echizen looked at his little brother as they disembarked the private jet on New York soil. He narrowed his eyes at the suspicious, silent aura that Ryoma was giving off from the moment they left the estate up until they reached their final destination. It was a five-hour flight and the only audible noises he made were huffing, puffing, and his occasional "Tch."

He had known Ryoma ever since he could remember and, like what he said he knew _him_ better than _he_ did himself. Ryoma wasn't the loquacious, sugar-overloaded person like Ryoga or Nanjirou. His being quiet was always a part of him, his copyright, or maybe a gene he inherited from their mother. It never really bothered Ryoga when his little brother never spoke a word. No, it didn't.

Ryoga knotted his eyebrows. He was a happy-go-lucky person who couldn't give a damn about anything, but he wasn't blind or numb. A dot in his older-brother radar was beeping.

Something about the way Ryoma didn't talk at all was disturbing him.

_I smell something fishy_, he thought. _And it's not Nanako's cooking._

As he set foot on the airfield's pavement, he pocketed his hands and breathed in the slightly colder east coast air. Though they were still in the same country, it felt different. Their parents didn't seem to have noticed it. Nanjirou and Rinko Echizen stood, talking in low voices as one of the butlers began settling their luggage on the ground.

It was then that it hit him.

_Yeah, it's about the girl._

"Oy," he called to Ryoma, who pretended not to hear. "The hell's the matter with you, _Chibisuke_?"

The younger man didn't answer. He just followed suit and placed his hands inside the pocket of his dark coat. Ryoma then turned away to look at the long, approaching limousine glinting against the mid-morning sun. His face was unreadable.

Ryoga followed with nonchalance as the black luxury vehicle slowed to a stop in front of them. The back door then popped open as a tall, European man stepped out, wearing a classic gray coat-and-tie, completely furnished with a welcoming smile.

Nanjirou immediately walked up to him and shook his hand in a very business-like manner. He was flashing his grin again. "Heinrich," he said as ended the handshake. "We finally meet. I hope we didn't make you wait."

The man quickly dismissed the apology and chuckled. "Yes, it's been quite some time, Nanjirou." he said politely. "I hope the flight was fine."

"It was pretty quick," Nanjirou replied as he gently pulled Rinko towards him. "I hope you remember my wife, Rinko," he said.

The woman gave a small smile as Heinrich bent down, took hold of her gloved hand, and lightly placed a kiss on the back. "Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you once again, Rinko. How could I forget such a fine woman." he greeted as he straightened up. "Still looking as beautiful as ever."

Rinko laughed good-naturedly at the sweet gesture. "You were always such a gentleman, Heinrich," she said. "How's Helen doing? I missed sharing my recipes with her."

"My wife's doing fine. She can hardly wait to see you again," Heinrich said, smiling. His gaze then fell on the two young men standing as rigid as stone. "And this must be your sons. My, they've grown into fine men. Time flies by fast these days!"

Ryoga grinned and held out his hand to Heinrich, who took it. "Nice to meet you Mr. Essenheimer," he said, pulling back.

"Same here, Ryoga. Looking every bit like your father," he replied, his eyes falling on the silent, younger brother. "And, Ryoma, the last time I met you, you were five, now look at you." His hand shake was very enthusiastic. "My daughter's looking forward to see you."

Ryoma only smiled. It wasn't genuine nor did it portray any emotion, Ryoga could tell. _At least you could've pretended you were fucking happy to see this bastard_, he thought at him. _Dad's gonna beat us to a pulp later because of this._

"Well," Heinrich said, suddenly realizing. "What are we waiting for? Get in, Get in!" he said, gesturing inside the limousine as the driver held the door open. "Everything that awaits us is in the mansion! It's freezing out here!"

Ryoga mentally rolled his eyes. Ryoma never budge a bit.

As kids, they would always devise a perfectly wicked plan against their father whenever he got into their nerves with his business talk and formality. He wouldn't let them play tennis without the bodyguards watching or let them completely ruin the fountains during hot, summer days. He had always had his way all his life. And they always worked as a team to make Nanjirou's life just a little less like hell.

Ryoga smirked. A playful fire lit up amidst the darkness of his thoughts.

_I think it's time to bring back the glory days._

**-oOo-**

"I need you to understand me, Sakuno," Ryoma said as he looked at the undiluted pain betrayed in her brown eyes shining with renewed tears. His hands cupped her face as her frail arms encircled his body. He felt like a man being condemned to death.

Sakuno sniffed. Tears fell down her face like it would never cease. "R-Ryoma—" she choked between sobs. He could tell that it hurt when she tried to talk. "I—I—" The words that followed were drowned by her tears.

He felt a stab on his chest like a knife was buried there. He knew it wouldn't go away after tonight. _She's going to hate me for this._ "I'm sorry," he whispered before he kissed her on the forehead. Ryoma then buried his head into her neck, trying his all to memorize the smell of her hair and skin. His slipped his hands around her waist. "I'm sorry."

It was all he could say.

_I'm doing what I have to do._

Sakuno whimpered against his body helplessly. "It's o-okay," he breathed with what sounded like her last breath. Her knuckles grew white as she desperately clutched the shirt on his back. The sounds of her sobbing quieted a bit.

Ryoma heaved out a heavy sigh. He wanted to let her go the gentlest way possible. This was all he could think of — holding her, whispering comforting words in her ear, telling her that everything would be alright, and it's all going to get better even is she wasn't with him.

The hard thing was, even if he managed to convince her, he still had to convince himself.

Everything that made up his life seemed trivial in comparison to the woman in his arms. He couldn't even see himself with someone else. She was all he needed. He wanted to with her for the rest of his being, wanted to grow old with her, wanted her to be the mother of his kids—

Ryoma pulled back to look at her face, glowing pale under the moon and evening sky. Her eyes glistened against the soft light. To him, she never looked more beautiful than ever. He drew her face closer to his and slowly pressed his lips against hers in a quick, chaste kiss.

He then pulled back. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself," he said to her as he cupped her face again, speaking to her in the softest voice he has as though talking too loud would ultimately break her.

Sakuno sniffed. She was blinking back tears which Ryoma brushed away with his thumb. Her small, swollen lips were shaking and kept her to say anything she wanted to tell him. Her long, red-brown hair framed her delicate face and tumbled on her shoulders loosely. Ryoma wanted this image of her to remain in his memory forever.

He was on the brink of half-wishing that she'd eventually find someone else. Some other guy who wasn't trapped in the unbreakable world that he was in. Ryoma felt his strength draining at the thought of Sakuno happy with a man other than him. _At least she wouldn't be like this_, he thought grimly, tightening his embrace as he desperately tried to recollect himself.

He wanted to commit every single line that traced itself on her, but he knew he didn't have much time. They had barely escaped the servants roaming every single corner of the mansion. The secluded area surrounded by tall bushes in the Echizen's backyard could only be their hiding place for a short while. Patrol guards would inevitably round this part of the estate sooner or later.

He couldn't risk it.

He had to say goodbye.

Eiji and the pig-tailed girl were already waiting at the outskirts of the manor, ready to leave. Ryoma knew his mother. Although Eiji was nothing to be suspicious off, Mrs. Echizen was a very paranoid woman. She would call the police at a snap of her long finger the moment she'd sense something running amiss, especially when his wedding was just around the corner.

He sighed again. The pang in his chest didn't disappear though.

_I have to end this._

With eyes that betrayed everything he felt, Ryoma looked at Sakuno, whose crying had subsided completely. She was quiet as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I'll come back for you," he whispered softly into her hair that smelled like watermelons. "I promise."

Sakuno simply nodded against his chest.

"Go." Ryoma jerked his head towards the direction of the pathway as he stepped back and took one last look at her standing form, his fingers still knotted with hers — he couldn't let go. He prepared himself for the possibility that this was the last time he's ever see her again. It was the last time he could make her his.

It was the last time.

The woman gazed up at him, her face bearing sadness that couldn't be placed in neither ink nor paint. It was a heart-breaking look that drove Ryoma to the border of insanity. He didn't want to see her like this. It even frustrated him that he couldn't tell her all the things he wanted to say to her. He didn't want to lift her spirits up only to bring it down.

_You deserve someone who won't do this to you._

She hesitantly dropped the hand that held his to her sides and just stood there, unmoving and unflinching in the stillness of the early morning. There were wet trails of fresh tears down her cheek. Sakuno's touch was still burning against his fingertips.

He couldn't take it anymore.

"What're you waiting for?" he yelled at her, finally loosing his temper. It was the only outlet available to him now. Everything else felt void and very, very empty. "_Go!_"

Sakuno instantly turned to her heels and ran into the pathway that led to a surefire exit outside the estate. His golden eyes followed her as her back was completely dissolved into the unlit unknown. He didn't expect this reaction from her. He realized that his voice had been too harsh.

Frustration, anger, and hurt were building in his core, threatening to explode. He needed to throw away his pent-up emotions. They were useless to him now. Even if he gave it all he got, he couldn't bring her back anymore. She was already out of his life.

In this lifetime or the next, she could probably meet a decent man who would make her feel like a queen. Maybe she would marry an asshole who would make her entire life miserable. Hell, he brushed it off. At least if she got hurt, it wouldn't be his fault, right?

Ryoma exhaled. He felt like he was drowning.

_Right?_

He gritted his teeth against each other until it hurt.

_No._

It had only been two weeks since he met her, but it felt like a lifetime to him. She was the only thing that made him feel complete.

But he did what he had to do.

And he was going to do what he has to do.

His thoughts of resignation enveloped him.

_Goodbye._

Ryoma turned and walked back to the awaiting doors of hell.

**-oOo-**

Takeshi Momoshiro flipped his mobile phone open and pressed the speaker onto his ear. "Taka," he greeted as he carried his small suitcase with his other hand and exited through the sliding, glass doors of LAX. He quickly called an empty cab. "My plane just got here."

"_Man, you're early for once,_" Kawamura replied, his voice barely audible against the howling of the winds outside the building. "_Okay, where are you right now?_"

"I'm at LAX, just got in a cab," Momoshiro said as he stepped inside the taxi and shut the door behind him. The reception was instantly clear. The driver then craned his neck to look at him and asked his destination in a thick, Haitian accent.

"_Okay, go straight to the containment facility that I sent you in the email. I'll head there in five minutes._" instructed Kawamura. "_Beware of morning traffic._"

Momoshiro chuckled and said the directions to the driver who nodded immediately. He then replaced his phone on his ear. "Traffic or no traffic, _damn_, I missed LA." _But not everything here is worth missing though._

Kawamura laughed shortly before he became silent for a few seconds. "_Momo, are you sure you wanna do this?_" he asked the man in a serious tone. The shifting of his mood took Momoshiro by surprise.

He frowned. _This man's the reason why my son is dead._ "Of course I do," he quickly said, gazing out the window and looking at the blur of the morning hustle and bustle of the city. He noted the slight uncertainty in the other man's voice.

Kawamura cleared out his throat. "_Okay,_" he said. "_I'll see you when you get there. It's only twenty minutes away from the airport._"

"Everything in LA is twenty minutes away," Momoshiro said jokingly. Though his mood was completely otherwise. "See you."

"_Alright._"

Momoshiro ended the call and slipped his cell phone inside the pocket of his coat. He stared at his reflection of his face on the clear window of the cab before sighing inwardly. He noted the fine laugh marks around his black eyes. _I'm getting old._

He tried to weigh down the possibilities of what might happen the moment he stepped into the precinct where they held the most despicable person who ever walked this planet. What was he supposed to say to a man whose existence was the cause of his son's death and his family's grieving?

Momoshiro let out a breath. He didn't exactly know why he was doing this in the first place. Ann needed him more back in Japan. The business was settled. The man was behind bars and will pay for the rest of his pitiful life. There was nothing else he could do but move on and put everything behind him like it never even happened.

_No_, his thought barged in unexpectedly. Momoshiro wanted to settle this himself like the man he was. If he didn't, he knew there would always be a part of him that would be left hanging even if this son-of-a-bitch was nothing more than ashes and dust.

It was something he had to do for himself, and for his family.

He shifted his gaze from his reflected face and let his eyes fall on the clear, endless sky above.

**-oOo-**

Tomoka Osakada was having a difficult time keeping her focus on the road. Although she had been lacking sleep for the past couple of weeks, she didn't feel the least bit sleepy or tired. Everything was being overpowered by the unnamable feeling that she was getting from the woman who sat in the passenger seat.

For the past hour since they had left the Echizen mansion, not a single word left Sakuno's lips. Her complexion was deathly pale and her breathing was labored though very quiet. It was disturbing to see her like this. And it chilled her up to no end.

Despite her nosiness, Tomoka honestly had no idea on what was really between the heir and her best friend before the small, porcelain teacup showered the marble tiles of the visitor's lounge. No, she didn't buy Sakuno's excuse of her grip not being strong enough. Sakuno was good at cooking. People who were good at cooking _do not_ have lousy grips.

_What the hell am I supposed to do here?_ Tomoka thought with impatience as she narrowly avoided a garbage truck that was speeding down the open freeway. _What am I supposed to tell a woman whose man was getting married to another woman?_

They had been friends for years and knew each other down to the single most impossible-to-find detail of their being. Sakuno and Tomoka had always been there for each other through ups and downs, right or wrong. They could even finish each other's sentences every once in a while. Yeah, Tomoka was a bitch most of the time, but she could be caring and concerned when the moment calls for it.

Tomoka really cared about Sakuno like how sisters would be for each other. She wanted to tell her that everything would be fine and that their relationship would eventually work out good for the both of them even without that guarantee that it would happen. It was the least she could do.

She screamed mentally. Agitation was eating up her insides.

But this situation was different. It was one of those things that they haven't encountered ever in their entire friendship. Sakuno was interested in the newspaper, making _bento_s, and watching sappy, primetime soap operas but _never_ gave a care about men. Heck, if she did, she would've gone out with Satoshi Horio years ago.

Tomoka cringed at the mental image. _Thank you, _Kami-sama_, for not giving my best friend any importance with regards to the insufferable race that is the male specie, because if she ever goes out with that impertinent, big-headed oaf, I'd hang her upside down and skin her alive—_

Her train of thoughts was halted as Sakuno suddenly spoke up with a voice that was hoarse. "Hey, Tomo," she began, wrapping her leather jacket around her body.

Tomoka let out a soft sigh of relief. _Okay, she can still talk._ "Yeah? What is it?" she asked Sakuno as she shifted gears and sped up a bit, her eyes not leaving the highway ahead.

A small smile spread lifted the sides of Sakuno's lips. But the sadness in her eyes never shed. "Remember the Mickey Mouse doll I used to tell you about?" she asked her casually.

_Huh?_ The other woman was taken aback by the question. But she brushed it aside. "Yeah, the one you had since you were a baby?" she replied. "Of course, I do? Why?"

Sakuno's face seemed to light up with the slightest traces of hope. It was radiating. "There's something about Mickey that I forgot to tell you about," she said as she gazed out the windshield, her eyes unfocused, glazed with memory.

"What about Mickey?" Tomoka was interested to hear. Her grip on the steering jerked unconsciously, making Eiji groan sleepily at the back seat.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, Sakuno linked her fingers on her lap. "He was my best friend ever since I could remember. I never let go of him wherever I went — school, the park, everywhere." She laughed. "I couldn't even sleep if he wasn't beside me in bed."

Tomoka nodded. She was confused where this conversation was going but she decided not to interrupt. "And?" she asked.

"When I was around five, my parents passed away in a car crash and I had to live with my grandmother here in LA," she continued, the expression on her face unchanging. "The sad thing was, when I unpacked my stuff, Mickey wasn't in the baggage I packed him into. He was gone. I cried my eyes out for weeks."

Tomoka frowned. "Really?" she said. "But you have him in your apartment, if I remember correctly. He was even on top of your bedside table."

"That's the thing," Sakuno said, her smile brightening up. "One morning, when we were in the tenth grade, I was searching for these pair of jeans that I'd been dying to wear. I was surprised when I opened my closet and Mickey fell down from the top shelf crammed with my old stuff."

Tomoka's heart warmed considerably. "Aw, that's so cute," she said truthfully. "We should put that in the _Times_ one of these days. It's gonna sell." _I think I know where you're going, Sakuno_.

"It was around over twelve years that I didn't get to see him," she said as she looked out the window and the occasional car passing them by. "But Mickey came back to me. He was a little rugged and dusty than before, but he came back."

Beaming, Tomoka took a second to look at her best friend before focusing on the road again. She understood what she was trying to say. _That's why you kept that old thing all these years._ She shrugged. "If it's really yours, then it'll keep coming back to you no matter what."

Sakuno didn't reply. But the ethereal smile on her lips was still lingering.

_How I wish I had your optimism, Sakuno_, Tomoka thought as her stomach rumbled. "You know what, I'm as hungry as hell, and I know that we're on a no-fat diet," she said, changing the topic though it wasn't harsh or forceful. "But, what d'you say we go grab cheeseburgers and fries and get our asses big?"

The woman on the passenger seat grinned.

"You're on."

**-oOo-**

**Author's Note**: I hope this didn't sound boring or sloppy compared to the last chapter. Lol. This one's a little bit, well, sad. But, don't worry. I'll turn the story around sooner or later. :D In the meantime, does anybody know a place where I can stay for the rest of the semester? Darn it, I have nowhere to sleep in. So effing pathetic, I know. Blame my temper. : Back to school. Hell week has barely begun. I will miss you all. :D

**P.S.** The first part of this chapter happened later in the story than the following ones. Sorry if it's kinda confusing. :D

**P.P.S**. If you guys aren't too busy, you can drop by my new Xanga: I totally trashed my old one. LOL. :D


	18. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Runaway

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: I haven't updated in AGES! Lol. I sent my sincerest apologies to everyone! I have term papers, major exams, and school work everywhere! _Gomen_. :D But now I'm back with a new chapter. Thank you those who have loyally reviewed despite my absence. I hope you guys still continue to support this fic. :D (The third last part of the story are flashbacks.)

Ahem. I'm proud to say that... I have a boyfriend! :D (Yes, I'm a no-boyfriend-since-birth girl. So, sue me. Lol.) God, he is the most amazing guy I've ever met. Daddy, if you're reading this, hello and I love you so much! :) 3

-**oOo**-

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

_Runaway_

Takeshi Momoshiro handed a bundle of bills to the driver and briskly stepped out of the cab. He let in a healthy inhale of cool, mountain air into his welcoming lungs. _I miss the Californian weather_. He heard the taxi rev away, leaving him in silence in front of the tall, gloomy building that stretched up into the blue sky.

_That bastard deserves a place worse than this—_

"Momo!" a familiar voice called from behind him.

Momoshiro whirled around with a grin on his face. "You've gained weight," he said with a laugh as he gave the police officer a manly, one-armed hug and a tap on the back. "Better lay off the _Krispy Kremes_."

"Don't mess with me, man," Kawamura shot back good-naturedly. "I haven't slept a wink since last night. So, how was the flight?"

Rolling his eyes, Momoshiro snorted. "Hell as usual. I flew economy class," he said, repositioning his small attaché case to his other hand. "I could barely breathe in my seat and the food was horrible."

"Ack, I never really liked airplane food." Kawamura chuckled. His head jerked towards the entrance of the building. "So, shall we?" he asked the other man. "The FBI's going to have my badge for this if you don't come," he added as a joke.

"Alright, already," Momoshiro said, falling instep. An uneasy, uncertain feeling was eating up his core. It was nothing he had ever anticipated. He took in another healthy gulp of air into his labored lungs. Stray thoughts enveloped his blurry mind and seemed to cut his skin open.

_Do I really want to do this?_

_How is this necessary to me?_

_Seeing this bastard won't give his death any justice._

A sharp, unexplainable pain resurfaced from the unfathomable depths of his subconscious. It was then slowly replaced by an inhuman hunger for revenge.

_Judgment day has come way too early for you._

**-oOo-**

Ryoma Echizen gave a disgruntled sound of annoyance as he gave his crisp, black bowtie a look that could've melted steel. He then roughly undid it and began the entire process again. His face was as blank as the sharp, yellow orbs that looked back at him from the crystal mirror.

For a man who was on the brink of a breakdown, his nonchalance was impressive. It was like _nothing_ had ever happened to him even though the occurrences of the past twenty-four hours were the _only_ things that ever meant _something_ to him now.

For God's sake, he wanted to punch himself hard in the face.

It was all too fast for him to handle. It was like when he got his first Cadillac when he was sixteen. Miles of freeway to speed down on, plenty of money for gas, 250 miles-per-hour of speedometer, and a testosterone overload mixed with a lack of driving know-how. It was a recipe for disaster.

Too much love, lust, passion, a rich, young heir, an innocent journalist, too little time. Talk about another crash course.

Within a couple of weeks, they had met, made love, and set each other free.

He had had his fair share of one-night-stands. Heck, he was barely seventeen when he first got _laid_. _This_ was not a one-night-stand. It wasn't even a fling. _This_ was beyond his need to fulfill his sexual desires or his overblown male ego.

It was like he didn't know himself anymore. His yellow eyes narrowed.

_If this isn't love then I don't know what is._

Ryoma stopped dead in his tracks. His train of thoughts crashed.

_Love._

_Tch._

He scoffed at the word.

For the past hours since he had let the only woman that made him feel complete go, he was trying with the will he could muster to erase, block-out, and forget knowing that at the end of the day it would be futile. And for the first time in his entire existence he looked at himself with pity.

_I guess you can't have everything in the world, _Ryoma thought as he readjusted his tie with a more force than was necessary, constraining his neck. It was like he did it on purpose, blinded by his sheer desire to cut of his breathing and put a period on the misery that flooded everything he was.

Reluctantly, he thought about Sakuno, how her lush, pink lips was stinging his and her soft cooing while she was writhing with pleasure in rhythm under his heated body, the way her fingers burnt his skin like wildfire. He wanted to make it last forever though he knew that everything would be different when they woke up the day after—

"You don't have to do this."

The younger man didn't even twitch a muscle. Ryoma didn't need to turn around to know who it was. _Fuck you, Ryoga_. He started busying himself with his coat that smelled like his mother's laundry. It made him want to talk to his mother all of sudden. Though he knew that it would be useless, he desperately wanted to swallow his manly pride for once and try and talk some sense into Mrs. Echizen's mind which was narrower than a rundown alleyway. He let out another frustrated sigh.

"Oi, are you _listening_ to me?" Ryoga pressed on, leaning at the edge of the open doorway and looking at Ryoma with pure disdain or apathy from the back. It was hard to tell.

Ryoma tried all with all the strength that he could muster to keep a straight, unreadable expression. He didn't dare turn around and meet his brother's eyes, not knowing what he would be capable of if he did. His anger and temporary insanity was building up inside him like a volcano threatening to explode. The next person who was brave enough to piss him off while he was like this would his potential outlet. And it wouldn't be pretty.

"Get out." His voice was empty but foreboding like an echo.

His older brother scoffed. "You know, I was never so stubborn like you," he said in an amused tone.

Ryoma could imagine a grin on his brother's lips. It sparked an enraged fire inside him. "That's because I'm not a coward like you," he said nonchalantly, staring at his face which was a fresher and younger version of Ryoga's. "I didn't run away to join the circus when I didn't like what Dad wanted me to do."

"Tch. That's why you took off after that stupid reunion in Osaka? I don't see anything different, _Chibisuke_."

Yellow eyes narrowed, just like how he was trained to analyze an incoming tennis ball in a game. "I realized _that_ was a mistake," he shot back, letting a little loathing slip into his voice. But he remained unbelievably cool and unshaken. "That's the difference between us."

There was another derisive snort from Ryoga. He then gave a hollow laugh. "Don't you see that everything—" He waved his hand across the room. "—you see here is a mistake? Dad would sell his soul just to keep this fucking company running!" he said to the younger man. "I know about _Nitoryuu_'s state, I know the bull crap behind the fucking wedding. I know everything. Don't act you're carrying everyone's asses around just cause you're about to get married to that German bitch."

Ryoma fought very hard with his will not to throw his brother a punch on the face. "At least I'm doing _something_ about it." His back was still turned against Ryoga.

"Oh, and you did Dad, Mom, and this whole family a favor by taking off and eloping with your little _girlfriend_? Tch. Face it. You're not any different than me. Quit pretending you are."

That did it.

Ryoma snapped.

_This is between you and me._

_Don't you dare put her into this._

The protective, untouchable wall he had been putting around himself shattered.

Without a word, he turned around to face his brother for the first time, his expression void. The resemblance was uncanny as always. Ryoma walked towards his brother and drew his lips closer to the other man's left ear.

"You're gonna grow up to be just like _him_."

"_Fuck you._"

In a split second Ryoma felt his jaw collide with his brother's fist.

-**oOo**-

"_Oi! _Chibisuke!_"_

_Ryoma whirled around only to find his forehead crashing with a fast, yellow tennis ball. He clumsily fell on his behind onto the grassy court as his white cap, way too big for him, flailed into the air. "_Itai—!_" he choked in a squeaky little voice._

_A sinister cackled erupted from the other side of the court where his older brother stood. "Sorry bout that. Thought you wanted to play!" he said, twirling his racket in his hand before he rested it coolly on his shoulder. "Get up!"_

_Wobbly, the 5-year-old supported himself as told. His tiny hand rubbed the part of his forehead where it hurt. "What was that for? I'm gonna tell Mom!" he threatened the older boy as he resumed his form across Ryoga._

"_Then go ahead! I won't have any games with you if you do!" he yelled and laughed, making Ryoma pout. "That stance's pathetic!" he said before the ten-year-old released a ball in the air and delivered a serve like a chip of the old block._

_Ryoma watched, open-mouthed, as the yellow tennis ball hit the tight strings of racket and revved at amazing speed towards his side of the court. With awe, he gawked at how the ball seemed to adhere to the ground and spinning in place before shooting off towards his face in point-black range. He felt the ball graze his cheek as it zipped off at 6 o'clock._

"_W-whoa—" the younger boy managed to say after standing frozen for a couple of seconds after the serve. "That was D-Dad's kick serve! How—how did you do that?"_

_Ryoga smirked before he instantly turned his back around and began walking back towards the mansion glinting in the afternoon sun._

"_Hey where're you going?" Ryoma half-yelled at his brother, who waved his racket in the air in a very dismissive manner._

"Mada mada daze._"_

-**oOo**-

Takashi Momoshiro eyed the dull, gray paint on the halls as he and his longtime high school friend walked in a rhythm that resembled a heartbeat. The heels of his shoes clicked menacingly against the cold tiled floor. He tried with all the willpower he could muster to keep his eyes away from the upcoming doors which grew bigger and ever so nearer, fearing of what he might do to the monster that lay behind it.

_Time paves the way to healing and forgiveness._ Momo snorted mentally at the cliché. It sounded like it came from the mouth of a close-minded pastor. _Forgiviness_. The word had lost its meaning to Momoshiro's ears and lips along with the loss of his son.

Frustration gnawed the pit of his stomach again. Before, tears usually came, but they soon dried away when he realized that blood and tears wouldn't bring Aki back no matter how much he and his wife shed them.

_He was four years old_. Momoshiro recalled. _Four fucking years old_. She shook his head slightly in disbelief at the irony of it all. _He was supposed to be a first grader this coming fall. He had just learned how to ride his bike without the training wheels. _He then found his lips curving up a little when he remembered the certain girl his son had told them about.

"_So," Ann mused during their typical family dinner one Monday evening. "How was school?" she asked, scooping broccoli on Aki's plate._

_The young, brown-haired boy wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sight of the green vegetables on his platter. But his expression changed quickly at the question. "Oh! There's this new girl in my History class!" It was obvious that he was trying not to smile too wide as his black eyes rounded with newfound enthusiasm._

_Momoshiro beamed proudly and punched his son lightly in the arm. "Oh, really?" he teased, making Ann smile and roll her eyes at her husband. "What's her name? And where's she from?"_

"_Her name's… Kirsten," Aki replied consciously, his cheeks burning a bright red as he looked down at his _Chuck Taylor_s. "And she… just moved here from New York with her parents."_

"_New York, huh?" Ann said, tapping her chin with a finger. "Your Uncle Atobe owns like a dozen condo-units there. Hmm… So, what does she look like, this girl?" She smiled a motherly smile again._

_Aki fidgeted and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "Well… she has long brown hair and blue eyes that kinda remind me of the beach when it's summer…" he answered in one short breath._

_Grinning, Momoshiro crinkled his eyes and hit his son in the arm again. "Atta boy, Aki! You really are my son! You're just like me when I first met your mother…"_

"Hey, Momo."

Coming of his daze, Momoshiro drifted back into the empty halls of the detainment unit and focused his eyes on the man who was waving a hand across his face for any sign of recognition. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry, Taka," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I was just thinking about… something."

Kawamura looked at his friend with brotherly concern before he shrugged it off. "Well… Momo, look, uhm…" he began hesitantly. "It's really fine with me if you'd wanna do this some other time."

The other man let out a tired sigh. His shoulders sagged a little. "I'm sorry for the trouble," he said, running a hand on his face. _I can't do this now._ "But, I… I don't think I'm ready for this. The… The past weeks have been hard, Taka, and…" He trailed off hesitantly before looking at the empty hall before them.

"It's fine with me, I already told you, and I understand," the policeman said reassuringly. He gave his friend a tap on the back and grinned. "I actually think you need some time to, uhm, forget. And Ann needs you more at home."

_Ann._ With aggravation, he scolded himself for forgetting that she has been taking this much harder than he was. Aki was a fruit of their love, but their son grew inside her. His wife and son shared a different relationship apart from what he and Aki had. It was stronger, more connected one. And it was selfish of him to think that he had been carrying the burden and grief all the time since his son had died.

_Taka's right_, he told himself. _Ann needs me now._ Talking to the son-of-a-bitch wouldn't help them one bit. It was unnecessary and a complete waste of time.

_Aki may be gone. But his memory will never leave us._

_I think it's time for me to move on._

"Thank you, Taka," he said to the other man before he turned around and bolted towards the exit.

_Thank you._

-**oOo**-

_Ryoma felt his adrenaline pump into his veins as he stepped on the pedal. His palms felt numb and sweaty against the leather steering wheels. His knuckles were growing whiter and whiter by the second._

_It was about time that he realized that he'd had enough._

_He wanted to throw up._

I am so sick of this life.

_He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. He wanted to get away from everything, everyone who had made his bejeweled life the way it is._

_He accelerated into 95 miles per hour._

_Ryoma narrowed his eyes dangerously at the empty freeway and the broken white lines in front of him._

_All his life, he was always given everything – anything – that he wanted. And he had grown used to it – the beautiful people, the grand welcomes, the world-class accommodations, designer clothes at his disposal, complete access to anything, loyal servants to do his will, all the money he a poor man could ever ask for._

_People would say that he was stupid for not wanting more. A normal person would always ask for more even if he already had enough. It was in the human genetic code, it was an unwritten, mandatory law._

_But he didn't want it. Not anymore, anyway._

_He didn't want everything he wanted in exchange for the freedom he had always longed for._

I'm not marrying that German whore.

I'm sorry, Dad. But this is the final straw.

I can't take this anymore.

You took away my life the moment I came out into this world.

And it's time for me to draw the line.

_Forcefully, Ryoma gripped the steering wheel hard and turned it to round a corner at full-speed. He didn't care anymore. All he wanted to do was run away._

_It was the only thing he could ever think of doing._

_His eyes rounded at an incoming car._

_It was too late._

_There was sharp pain, and a blinding flash of light._

_And it was the last thing he could remember._

-**oOo**-

**Author's Note**: I'm so sorry for the super late update, guys! Apologies for the latest chapter. There was a slight change in the plot that I just thought of a few weeks ago so I had to redo this chapter, that's why it took me longer than necessary. So there, I finally found a way to close the first part of the story. (Yes, it's only the first part.) The next chapter will be set around five years later. I'm so frikkin excited! Lol. :D


	19. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Unknown

Raindrops

**Raindrops**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_. (How I wish Ryoma was mine though. Lol.)

**Author's Note**: I felt like writing another chapter, so here you guys go! I decided to set this chapter eight years after the last. It's just a tiny correction. :)

**Clarification**: The last part of _Runaway_ is a flashback. Remember the newspaper article Sakuno and Tomoka co-wrote? The one that has an excerpt in the prologue? Well, that's basically it. No, Ryoma didn't die! Where would all the mushy love scenes be without him? :))

-**oOo**-

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

_Unknown_

Syuusuke Fuji swiftly placed his fresh-from-the-printer papers into his trusty folder and placed in on the center of his desk before letting his shoulders sag and easing his back on to his soft office chair. He then momentarily closed his eyes and let his mind drift off into the abyss that was his peaceful sanctuary — silence.

It had been almost two decades after the great Nanjirou Echizen took him under his wing, but somehow, he was never really the one to tire even when he sorted document after document, ran errand after errand, served year after year after year. No, he never ever grew tired, not what after the Echizen family has done for him.

As a child, he wasn't really deprived like the "others" that Nanjirou Echizen trained to become his apprentice. Actually, Fuji was raised in a perfectly normal family. A father, mother, sister, and a brother.

But everything changed when an 7.1-decibel earthquake hit Tokyo one typical Sunday evening. The Fuji family was on a vacation that time and everyone was fast asleep.

The hotel building he and his family were staying in collapsed on top of them and hundred or so other vacationers. There were only 26 survivors, one of them was Syuusuke Fuji.

How he got to meet Nanjirou Echizen, he could barely remember. All he knew was he was the one who gave him clothes to wear, food to eat, and a roof to keep him sheltered when everything he had was taken away from him. It was a lifetime debt he owed.

Fuji breathed deeply. _Forget about it._

_One... Two... Three..._ He began counting to relax his seemingly knotted mind. There was around twenty years worth of company history in his long-term memory that he felt like his head was an impending, ticking time bomb which threatened to explode when he felt that everything was a little too much. _Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight... Nine... Ten._

Out of instinct, he began checking a mental list of his agenda today. _Print out petition for Nitoryuu's fund-raiser, checked. Note Mr. Echizen regarding about the company's current monthly tennis racket income, checked. Ask for Mr. Echizen's signature for elementary school children's consent letter for a tour of the mansion…unchecked._

Fuji let out a sigh as he began rummaging the drawers of his desk for the request letter coming from a private elementary school in one of L.A.'s busiest districts. _I wonder if he will allow this_, Fuji thought as he continued his search. _His father wouldn't, I'm sure of it_..._ He was never really fond of children…_

After a couple of minutes, Fuji finally pulled out a single sheet of paper underneath his monthly report on sales. His eyes barely skimmed the headings before he slid it inside a new folder he found from God-knows-where. He then stood up and headed to the oval office just like the faithful, undying servant that he was.

-**oOo**-

Sakuno Ryuuzaki wanted to cry at the sight of her signature unkempt desk and the everlasting paperwork that never ceased to keep her awake till the wee hours of the morning. It also secretly amazed her how the unedited articles stacked in front of her actually obscured her from the rest of her office, how it formed her own secret world that was apart from the rest of the _LA Times_' staff.

With a shaky hand, she grabbed her rich, dark coffee and put the plastic rim of her mug to her lips. She didn't anticipate the scorching hot liquid and gave a high-pitched squeal when the coffee made contact with her lips. The mug was sent flying into the air as the brown substance sprayed all over her worktable, causing much pandemonium.

"Oh, this is just lovely," he cursed under her breath as she grabbed a paper towel and tried in vain to save papers that cost about two hours per page of her precious time. "What else could go wrong?" _This is exactly what I _don't_ need right now._

She let out a defeated sigh as she held up a newly-printed sports article before her eyes. The ink was starting to run the same way she wanted to.

_Perfect_, she thought sarcastically as she threw the useless pulp into overflowing trash bin along with its other doomed relatives. _Looks like I'm going OT for the fourth time this week_—

A soft knock from the door reverberated across her office, causing her thoughts to dismantle with much aggression. Sakuno looked up from behind her desk. "Come in," she replied in the calmest voice she could fake, wiping her sweat-beaded head with the back of her hand.

The door swung open slowly as a young school boy peeked shyly through the crack of the open doorway. He had messy black hair that stuck out in odd places and brown cat-like eyes that looked at Sakuno with hours' worth of impatience. A small pout was on his lips.

The woman smiled gently at the sight of him and gave him an apologetic look. "Hey, sweetheart," she began, clumsily restacking the rescued paperwork on her work desk. "Just give me five more minutes. I need to freshen up a bit."

The seven-year-old boy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest. "Mom, it's already two o'clock and I'm gonna be late _again_," he complained as he put emphasis on the last word. "You know how they are in Youth Garden. Five-minute-delay equals _default_. All the first and second graders are gonna make fun of me _again_."

Sakuno was slightly impressed at how her young man had the guts to scold her. She gave a chuckle and grabbed her cell phone. She chose a number from her list. A high-pitched female voice answered after two rings. "Hey, Tomoka," Sakuno immediately said. "I know this is on short notice but can you fill in the EIC post for me till around 8pm? I need to bring Kesuke to his tennis game today."

The same voice replied excitedly. "Thank you so much, Tomo. I owe you one," Sakuno said before hanging up and beaming at the small boy standing beside the door. "Are you happy now?"

Kesuke grinned.

-**oOo**-

"Come in."

Ryoma Echizen gazed nonchalantly at the marble fountain sparkling under the morning sun outside his windowpane. It was a welcoming sight but it brought back memories he'd rather forget than remember. He narrowed his yellow eyes and turned around in his office chair as a familiar face entered through the double doors across the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Echizen," Fuji greeted with a low bow, a few inches away from the work desk.

Ryoma gave a short nod. "Good morning," he said, his voice deep. "Did you need something, Syuusuke?" he asked, placing his chin on his hand in a very bored manner. The gesture made him look more like the man who previously sat behind his desk a few years back.

"Yes, sir," said Fuji as he took out the letter he found earlier in his office. He placed it on the table facing Ryoma who looked at it without a slight hint of interest. "I apologize for the delay but I need to know if you are willing to allow a tour to be conducted within the estate premises. The sender needs to know your answer as soon as possible so they can change their venue if ever you refuse."

The CEO picked up the sheet and let his cat-like eyes briskly scan the letter. _I don't have time to read all of this..._ "Who are these people and how long are they gonna stay here?" he asked Fuji, too lazy to read the entire memo.

"They're just a small tennis team from an elementary school in Los Angeles," Fuji said straightforwardly as he brushed the sleeves of his grey work suit. "A coach and more or less ten children."

Shrugging, Ryoma grabbed a fountain pen lying on his table and hastily scribbled his signature on the lower-right portion of the document. "What about the guide?" he asked his personal secretary.

Fuji's blinked. "Excuse me, sir?"

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "The_ tour guide_, Syuusuke," he repeated impatiently, handing the paper back to the other man. "Who's gonna give the kids a tour of this place? Get someone who won't get lost."

Fuji placed a finger on his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm," he began as his brows furrowed a little. "What about Mr. Kaidoh, sir?"

The black-haired man immediately shook his head. _I can't risk having any of the kids being shot accidentally if Kaidoh gets impatient. _"Not Viper," he said as he grabbed a _Ponta_ from a cooler under his desk. "I think he's had enough with kids when me and my brother were growing up."

"Ms. Meino, sir?"

Ryoma shook his head again. "Nanako's too busy with her firm," he said plainly, twirling the pen in his hand.

"How about you, sir?"

The CEO gave him a deathly glare that would've petrified a wild predator.

Fuji smiled apologetically before snapping his fingers. "Ah!" he said as he took out his Blueberry from the pocket of his coat. "I think I may have just found the perfect person for the job, sir."

With a slightly amused expression, Ryoma raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And who might that be, Syuusuke?" he inquired as he watched his secretary fiddle with his mobile unit. _Syuusuke scares me when he's like this…_

Fuji handed the phone to Ryoma. "But I'm going to have to ask for your help, sir."

The CEO took it and placed the speaker on his left ear. He then looked at Fuji with suspicion as he listened the persistent ringing on the other line of the call. A man with a very bubbly voice answered.

"_Kikumaru Residence, good morning!_"

-**oOo**-

"I am just so proud of my young man!"

Kesuke squinted at a very excited Sakuno as she grabbed a towel and started wiping sweat and dirt from his face. "Mom, _s-stop it_," he whispered dangerously. A gold medal was dangling around his neck and shining in the afternoon sun. "The other kids are starting to _stare_." His eyes started darting towards the crowds of children and parents around the tennis courts.

She raised an eyebrow. "Now, why do you always have to care about what "the other kids" think?" Sakuno asked as she pulled Kesuke, who was trying to wiggle away, closer. "Do you have a _special someone_ watching?" she said teasingly, slipping off Kesuke's sweat-soaked shirt.

Blushing profusely, the seven-year-old pouted and crossed his arms defensively across his chest. "No, Mom, there is no "special someone"," he said, though his gaze continued to roam over the throng of kids and their families departing the arena.

"Yeah, _right_," Sakuno said as she put on a fresh, crisp sports shirt on her squirming son. "And that's the reason why you kept on making excuses just to watch the girls' play-offs in the other courts?"

Kesuke looked like a very, very ripe tomato with patch of messy black-green hair. He opened his mouth to say retort but quickly closed it, realizing that there's no escaping his mother when she was in this "mood." He then shifted his eyes from Sakuno to a young girl who was waving at him from two tennis courts away.

Sakuno watched Kesuke waved back energetically. _That's too cute_, she thought. _You're growing up so fast._

"Congratulations!" the blond girl called to Kesuke. "Nice medal!" she said with a bright smile.

"Thanks!" he yelled back, eyeing the girl's own silver award around her neck. "Yours isn't so bad too!"

The young girl chuckled. "Thanks!" she said as she turned around to look at her parents leaving already. She quickly whirled around to take one last look at Kesuke. "I'll see you tomorrow at practice!"

"Yeah! See you!" Kesuke waved a short goodbye as he watched the girl disappear into the SUV parked at the exit gates.

Sakuno gave a soft, motherly laugh as she finished packing Kesuke's things in his duffel bag. _The last serve you did was amazing, Kesuke_, she thought as she gazed as his son who was shyly looking at a blond girl in a ponytail across the stadium. _I've never seen anyone do that kind of serve before. I wonder where you get it from…_

She narrowed her eyes as something from her hand caught the last rays of the sun and reflected it on her face.

Her thoughts trailed off as she stared at the white gold diamond ring wrapping her finger. Her breath was caught in her throat as her mind drifted off.

_If only you could see him now_, she thought of words that could never be said to the one she wanted to say them to. Sakuno felt a small pang in her chest. _He's so beautiful_._ And he's just like you in so many ways…_

"Mom!"

Sakuno broke off from her stupor and fixed her gaze on her son who was looking at her with a very confused expression on his face.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked, looking a little concerned as he grabbed his tennis racket.

She smiled as she gave Kesuke's cheek a quick pinch. "I'm okay, honey," she said. "I was just thinking about something." She lifted the duffel bag from the floor.

Kesuke rolled his eyes. "What is it this time?" he asked impatiently. "The _Times_, the bills, your deadlines?"

Sakuno laughed softly. "No," she said, her chocolate eyes dancing playfully. "About how I'm gonna beat you to the car," she added before running towards the parking lot.

"No fair! You got a head start!" Kesuke yelled as he chased after his mother.

_He's just like you in so many ways_...

-**oOo**-

Kesuke Ryuuzaki locked his bedroom door and switched the lights open. He then dropped his heavy tennis bag on the floor and began fumbling with its messy contents until he found the slightly crumpled waiver he had been looking for.

Excitedly, he ran towards his desk, sat on his computer chair and grabbed a pen with his left hand. He let his eyes skim the letter one last time.

_Youth Garden Junior Tennis Team_

_Youth Garden Elementary School_

_Los Angeles, CA, USA 90012-1394_

_November 3, 2015_

_Dear Ms. _Sakuno Ryuuzaki_:_

_Greetings from Youth Garden!_

_We are proud to say that your son, _Kesuke Ryuuzaki_, has been one of the selected few to join a special field trip hosted by _Youth Garden_'s Tennis Team. The Echizen Estate, home to one of the most prestigious tennis companies of the United States, _Nitoryuu_ Tennis Company, has exclusively opened its doors to our very own varsity team and we are hoping that your son can be a part of this once-in-a-lifetime experience._

_The trip will be on November 9, 2015 (Monday) and assembly time will be at 5:30AM on the Youth Garden Tennis Courts. A private bus will be provided as transportation and the two coaches will accompany the children on their trip to assure you of their safety and enjoyment. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will be served to them._

_We are looking forward to see your son!_

Atty. Kunimitsu Tezuka

_Head of Youth Garden Junior Tennis Team_

_--_

_(This part is to be detached and to be passed to the presiding coach.)_

_ Yes, I am allowing my son to join._

_ Yes, I am allowing my son to join provided that I accompany him._

_ No, I am not allowing my son to join, because ._

_Signature of student over printed name_

_Signature of parent/guardian over printed name_

Kesuke heaved in a heavy breath and slowly clicked his retractable pen open. He read the last part several times before his poised the tip of his pen on the paper. _Go on, just do it_, he told himself forcefully as he checked the first box, making sure that his check looked like it was written by someone older than twenty.

_Mom would never let me go_, he thought to himself, scribbling his name and signature on the waiver. _But I just can't let this pass. I'm only gonna do this once anyway._ He tried to push away his conscience as far away as possible.

With his best attempt at imitating his mother's handwriting, he then finally forged Sakuno Ryuuzaki's signature on the very last blank before he got a pair of safety scissors and detached the slip. He placed the small paper in between the books he was going to bring to school tomorrow.

_Mom's gonna have my head for this_, he scolded himself one last time before slipping off his jacket. _But, what the heck, I really wanna see the people who make the really awesome rackets I use._

"Kesuke!" Sakuno's voice reverberated from the kitchen downstairs. "Dinner's ready, honey! C'mon down before your food gets cold!"

Kesuke cringed at the sound of his mother. A small surge of guilt sprung up from deep within his conscience but he quickly brushed it aside. It wouldn't be a life-death situation if he got caught forging his mother's signature, right?

"Coming!"

-**oOo**-

**Author's note**: Whew! Wow. This is a big change from what I used to write so I hope that this chapter doesn't seem like a big 360-degree suprise turn for all of you. :) Don't worry. Our couple will meet soon enough. So, stick around for more. :D Again, sorry for the typos and I'm still very much open to comments, suggestions, and hate mail. Thank you for the reviews. :)


	20. CHAPTER NINETEEN: Remembered

Raindrops

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Prince of Tennis_. (But Ryoma Echizen is _**MINE**_.)

**Author's Note**: Hey, guys! Summer classes just began and I just moved into my new dorm recently. But for the first time ever, I'm allowed to bring my laptop with me, so expect faster-than-usual updates even though I have frikkin classes. So, hurrah for everyone! :D Here's another chapter for y'all and I hope you continue to support my little ficcie. :)

**P.S. **If you don't mind, you can check out my new and second fanfic. It's another AU story, _Naruto_ based on Warner Bros. _The Lake House_. (I know, a very weird combination.) So, if you liked the movie and you're a _Naruto_ fanatic, you can go read it. (I've only uploaded like a couple of chapters so far, kinda like a trial version. LOL.)

-**oOo**-

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

_Remembered_

Ryoma Echizen listened intently to the soft howling of mid-autumn air and the crunching of crisp, green grass beneath his leather shoes. It sounded like sweet, sweet music to his ears, being stuck inside his cursed oval office most of his time ever since the late Nanjirou Echizen had passed away and the company was handed down to him. It was a refreshing sight at it even made him feel lightheaded.

He ran a calloused hand across his face and hair and let his yellow eyes rest on the empty tennis court before him. It had been a while since the last time he held a racket and stepped into the courts for a game. It was so long ago, it felt like another lifetime – a life before he got lost in a blur of dark, empty streets and a life he never knew existed.

A life before he met the one who changed everything he was.

Tiredly, he let a soft sigh escape his lips and let his breath mingle with the cold air. Ryoma felt like he was carrying a lifetime burden, a curse from a bad burn he had gotten eight years ago. It was a cut so deep it was hard not to think about it every night as he lied on his bed.

They were young. So young. Sometimes, he couldn't help but feel frustrated whenever he thought about how they could be a victim of cruel fate. All this time, he felt like she was finally the one he was looking for, but it just wasn't the right time or circumstance. He had his duties and she had her own. And in this game we call life, duties came first before feelings, emotions, or whatever intangible things.

He couldn't even forget her name no matter how hard he tried. Even during his wedding day, every single beat of his heart was calling out to her, hoping that she would burst through the chapel doors to protest, himself not able to do anything, being bound by the mercy of his father and mother. He felt so juvenile and helpless back then.

Now that he was one of the most powerful men in the country, he realized not much has changed since that lonely night in their backyard, that night he last saw those beautiful brown eyes and silky hair, the soft, sweet-smelling skin, the woman who never failed to take his breath away. The boy who loved her eight years ago was the same man who was standing alone in the very same backyard. Indescribable warmth spread through his chest at the thought of her.

Ryoma slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat and took a last look at the tennis court where he and his brother used to have their heated matches. _Ryoga_, he thought casually. _I wonder where you are now… Running away, maybe you've done right all these years, and I just didn't know it—_

His cell phone went off, disturbing the seemingly unbreakable silence that surrounded him. Ryoma slowly took it out, flipped it open, and placed the speaker on his ear.

Fuji's voice was on the other line. "_Mr. Echizen_," he greeted. "_I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed, but—_"

"Cut to the chase, Syuusuke," Ryoma interjected irately. He could imagine Fuji wincing at his sharp voice.

"_I'm sorry to interrupt but your wife wanted to remind you about lunch,_" he said. "_I believe you made plans._"

_Shit._ Ryoma cursed silently as he remembered what his personal secretary had told him. _I don't wanna see that woman right now._ "Okay, tell her I'll be up in ten minutes," he replied stiffly, flipping his phone close after his last word.

He took one final look at his safe haven before he started walking back towards the mansion.

-**oOo**-

Sleepily, Sakuno Ryuuzaki tried in vain to pry her eyes open to look at the dark, early morning side street before her. Her face was dangerously close to the windshield has her hands grasped the steering wheel with brute force. It scared Kesuke a little to see his mother like this, nevertheless, it was a normal scene whenever he asked her to drive him to school early.

"Are you sure there are people this early, honey?" she asked Kesuke, who was sitting quietly in the passenger seat clutching his loyal duffel bag.

Kesuke made a weird noise and fidgeted. _For once, let your mother-instincts be numb._ "Yeah," he said as he looked out the window and on to the blur of their suburban neighborhood. "I'm going to meet up with my friends in the library early to do finishing touches on our science project." _What a lame excuse._

Sakuno shook her head lightly as she stepped on the brake pedal. The car rounded before slowing to a stop at the deserted entrance of Youth Garden elementary school. Not a single person was in sight and it looked alien without the hustle and bustle of school children.

Without looking at his mother, Kesuke quickly got off the SUV and heaved the heavy sports bag on his shoulder. "Bye, mom! See you later!" he yelled back as he sprinted towards the entrance hall.

"Hey!" Sakuno called after her son. "You forgot something!" She smiled at Kesuke, leaning her face closer to the open window across from her.

The young boy froze in his spot and turned around slowly. He then trudged back to the vehicle and gave Sakuno a peck on the cheek. "Love you, Mom," he whispered with a shy smile, his wet, black-green hair sticking to forehead, fresh from the shower. _And I'm sorry for what I'm about to do._

"I love you too, honey," she said, kissing Kesuke on the forehead. "Take care, okay?"

He gave her another small smile. "I will," Kesuke said as he walked towards the open gates of the school. "Bye!"

-**oOo**-

"Hey, are you okay?"

Ryoma lifted his golden feline eyes from his unfinished plate to meet blue ones that were staring at him with confusion. He appeared restless, like a captured lion in a cage he was trying to escape from. "What?" he asked, uncertain.

Hanna gave him an exasperated expression. Her bright orange hair was in a tight bun on the back of her head like it always was. "I thought you like Japanese food," she told him as she looked at Ryoma across the table. _You're always like this when we go out._ "You hardly touched your plate at all. Look, if you wanted something less oriental, you could've just told me."

With a sigh, he put down his chopsticks and looked at the woman in front of him. His lips were pressed flatly together as though he was trying not to say something. "It's fine," he said as he placed his two fingers on his temple. "I just feel a migraine coming up."

"Well, do you want an _Advil_ or something?" she asked him, reaching into her purse.

Ryoma gritted his teeth. "No!" he said a little louder than he intended it to. Hanna jerked slightly at the tone of his voice. "I'm sorry, I've been… lacking sleep for the past days."

_You're always full of excuses, Ryoma._ Hanna rolled her eyes and scoffed mentally. _I know you don't want this marriage, but you could at least pretend that you're trying to make it work._ "Well, what _do_ you want?" she asked him again, trying to keep her cool as she downed her _sake_ in one gulp.

"_Echizen-sama, daijōbu desu ka?_"

Ryoma looked up to a smiling Asian waitress who was refilling his glass of wine. "Yes, I'm okay," he replied in fluent Japanese as he rubbed the side of his head. He then turned to Hanna. "I'm gonna step outside. I need fresh air."

His wife gave a nonchalant shrug as she took out her phone and eyed it casually. _Fresh air. That's a pathetic excuse._ "Go ahead," she said monotonously.

Ryoma got up from his seat and headed directly towards the exit of the restaurant.

-**oOo**-

"Okay, you know how this works. When your name is called out, please raise your hand."

Eiji Kikumaru ran over the list of names and called out a roll call one last time. When he was sure that everyone was present, he slipped the piece of paper into his back pocket and clapped his hands together merrily. Curious, wide eyes looked up to him and little heads were peaking out from behind the seat backs of the minibus.

"I can see you're all excited!" he exclaimed. "And we're so honored to have Atty. Kunimitsu Tezuka and Shuichiro Oishi along with us!" Eiji waved a hand towards the two men, one with a cold, stern look and glasses and the one with very short, black hair, who were quietly sitting at the back, surveying the twenty or so children with well-trained eyes.

Everyone turned their heads around to take a peek before gazing back at Eiji, who was babbling incessantly about the tour for the past hour.

"…As a kid, the Echizen Mansion was my playground. My father was one of the great Nanjirou Echizen's followers and was an avid fan of tennis and he always took me to work with him because we couldn't afford a babysitter. I hope you troopers will enjoy our visit here. As you may all know, the Echizen Mansion is the home of the prestigious _Nitoryuu_ Tennis Company, makers of quality tennis supplies that most of you young tennis players use today. It's also the founder of our very own school, yet many of our students are oblivious to that…"

Kesuke propped his chin on his hand and looked out the window with insouciance that would've reminded his mother of someone she once knew. He misted the glass with warm breath and drew a roughly-sketched tennis ball with a finger. He couldn't stop thinking about the permission slip he forged. It was a miracle Captain Tezuka fell for it. He was usually the type who wouldn't be fooled but that kind of stuff, but here he was, sitting comfortably in the bus like any other kid whose parent had consciously let them join this field trip.

He then came up with a conclusion. _Yeah, I'm dead when Mom finds out about this_, he thought disturbingly. _That is if she finds out!_ a naughty little voice in his head added. Something told Kesuke it wasn't his conscience. _She'd probably ground me forever or something_.

The weird this was, ever since Kesuke learned how to play tennis, which was when he was about four or five years old, he wanted with all his might to enter the doors of the mysterious, white house look-a-like manor of the Echizens. He wanted to meet the geniuses behind the rackets that every tennis player would die to have. Its sleek, aerodynamic design which would make hitting a tennis ball easy with pinpoint precision, its light-weight, yet very sturdy aluminum, the scratchproof shaft…

Kesuke let out a sigh as he mentally admired the brilliance and beauty of _Nitoryuu_ tennis rackets. The bus shook a little as the tires hit a bump on the road. It brought his back to his senses and took in the opportunity to pay attention for once.

"…Another trivia. Did you guys know that in order to work for _Nitoryuu_, one must not only be an experienced office worker, but also be an experienced tennis player? Yes, that's true! The Echizen's personal assistant, Syuusuke Fuji, was once a feared tennis player in Japan. And that's just the assistant! Have you guys ever seen one of Nanjirou Echizen's games?! Man, that guy is wicked! During his younger years here in America, he was well-known by his nickname "The Samurai" and bagged all games he played! Amazing! And don't let me get started on his youngest son, the current CEO of the company. Ryoma Echizen, better known as "Samurai Junior," was a very promising tennis player when he was a kid. He sadly hung up his racket to follow his father's footsteps when The Samurai passed away seven years ago…"

Scoffing, Kesuke pressed his lips together to stop a smirk that was tugging at the edge of his lips. The tour guide looked like he could use a breath or two. He was telling his inquisitive club mates everything he knew about this company and the enthusiasm was almost unbearable to watch without cracking up. His male pride had gotten to him again.

_Tch_, he thought smugly. _Samurai Junior, huh? I'd bet my allowance I can beat that guy any day._

-**oOo**-

It was a very typical day at _The Coffee Grinder_. And it was a typical lunch break for two particular women.

Tomoka Osakada eyed her best friend with narrowed eyes. It was a penetrating, examining gaze and Sakuno felt like she was being stripped or X-rayed. She quickly returned the gesture and glared at Tomoka without blinking, biting into her clubhouse sandwich as she did so.

"What's with the look?" Sakuno finally asked when her eyes started to sting.

Tomoka shrugged and swirled the cappuccino in her hands. "Nothing," she started, snapping out of her trance. "I've just been thinking about how I never get sick of your face after seeing it for the past, what, twenty years."

Sakuno gave the other woman a slightly disgusted look. "Oh God, don't tell me you're a lesbian," she mocked a surprised tone and covered her mouth with a hand.

Accidentally spitting out some of her coffee, Tomoka kicked her in the shin. "Ha ha ha. Very amusing." she said as she rolled her eyes. "It's just that… I suddenly realized that we're getting old."

"What the—" It was Sakuno's turn to spit out her drink. "What are you _saying_? We're, like, thirty-one! Have some optimism! You know what they say, 'Life begins at thirty.' And we're just starting to taste what life really is."

"Yeah, that's what geriatric people tell themselves when they go into the 'denial stage,'" Tomoka snapped back, her fingers mimicking quotation marks in the air as she said the last two words.

Sakuno rolled her brown eyes. "What?" she asked with a soft laugh. _Ha!_ Suddenly, an idea lit up in her head. "I know what you need!" she said bubbly, her expression bright.

"_What_."

"A boyfriend."

Tomoka cleared her throat a little too loudly as if trying to emphasize a point. "Uhm, Sakuno," she said pointedly. "As you can see, I've dumped every single guy I went out with. Shit, I can't believe I actually dated that uni-brow, Horio. God, he's so annoying. All he talks about is himself, the _Times_, _himself_… What an egotistical, self-centered bastard."

Sakuno couldn't help but chuckle. "Isn't that the reason why you didn't want me to date him back in the olden days?" She raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"_Don't_ remind me."

The other woman laughed again. _You haven't changed a bit at all since the first time a met you. I wonder how you can be such a bitch and such a softy at the same time all these years…_

After some time, Tomoka then looked up from her empty mug. "How about you?" she asked casually.

Sakuno's eyes rounded. "Huh?" she said with uncertainty. "What about me?"

"I mean, did you ever find yourself wanting to settle down with someone, like, for good?" Tomoka said.

It was like something invisible grasped Sakuno's throat as she heard the question. It took her a few more moments to find the words to say. She unconsciously touched the diamond ring around her finger. "Well, yeah, I did, once before," she said as something indescribable spread through her chest. "But right now I'm way too happy with my little man."

Tomoka smiled. But her expression withered again. "He's gotten so big," she said, finishing what was left of her donut. "Hey, Sakuno?"

"Yeah?" She tore her gaze from the window beside her.

Her friend heaved in a deep breath as if she were submerging into an unfathomable ocean. "I'm just curious… Has Kesuke ever asked about his father?" she whispered softly.

Sakuno felt a pang in the same spot where she felt something warm a while ago. But it was just a small one, like a needle prick. Although she couldn't deny the fact that she couldn't ignore it. "So far, he hasn't," she answered truthfully, knowing that Tomoka was her secret-keeper. She could tell her anything and trust her with whatever she holds dear. "But I know, someday, he will."

"What do you plan to tell him?" Tomoka asked, her eyes full of concern that looked alien to her usually snobbish face.

Shrugging, Sakuno looked at the Picasso imitation painting behind Tomoka's head. "I don't know," she said. An image of black-green hair and yellow eyes flashed through her head. It was so fast she barely noticed it. "Maybe, I'd tell him his dad died in a car crash or something. Something that doesn't make him ask for more details."

"Good luck with that," Tomoka said. "Your kid's _way_ too curious to ever let something like that pass him by. Did you know that one time when you brought him to work with you, he started snooping around in my _office_ and he actually caught me and Horio making out in the bathroom—"

"_WHAT?!_"

"Yeah, seriously, his head just peeked out of nowhere and—"

Sakuno waved a hand in front of Tomoka's face disbelievingly. "No! You actually _made out_ with _Satoshi Horio _and you never _told_ me?! How could you? We've been telling each other everything since middle school!"

Tomoka gave her friend a sheepish grin. "Well, I kinda forgot to mention that to you," she said, scratching the back of her head, embarrassed. "I had a couple drinks the previous night and had a bad hangover. C'mon, Sakuno, you'd think I'd make out with that stupid excuse for a man in my right state of mind?"

The other woman broke out into shaking laughter.

All Tomoka could do was pout.

_I take that back. You've _changed_. A lot._

-**oOo**-

_That was way too close for comfort._

Kesuke pressed his back into the concrete fence that surrounded the mansion and slowed down his breathing to avoid being heard. He could feel blood pounding in his head as he slowly sneaked his way closer to what looked like a terrace with an open window above his head.

He had always been a very curious kid all his seven-year-old life and he often tried to bend the rules as much as possible just to feel different. _This_ was a good time as any and he grabbed the opportunity like there was no tomorrow. His sharp eyes landed on the group of children, clad in school jackets, which was walking farther and farther into the opposite direction, eventually disappearing into one of the many distant indoor tennis courts in the estate.

I can't stand this boring tour any longer, he thought to himself. _It's time for some real action._

Kesuke listened intently to the tour guide's voice very animated voice as it diminished into a whisper till he could hear nothing. They were probably well inside the mini-arena. _Alright._ It was safe to come out.

He slowly stepped out of the shadows and into the midday sun, brushing himself off the dust and twigs that had clung on his jersey. He then readjusted the strap of his messenger bag. What he was doing was pretty risky and he realized could be thrown off the varsity team what he just did. But he didn't care. He wasn't going to let this break past him. It was too sweet of a temptation to go snooping around. He even brought his camera with him.

_Judging by the chaperones and the number of kids, I'd say I just bought myself an hour or two before they find out I'm gone and go look for me_, he thought, looking at the glittering marble fountain in the center of the grand garden. _I'll just tell them I got lost 'cause they were walking way too fast. Lame._

Kesuke's eyes then fell on the terrace he noted a few minutes ago. The tour guide said it was the office of no less the CEO himself if he was not mistaken. That was what had started the spark in him. The name had slipped out of his tongue. Heck, he didn't even know what the initials CEO meant. But the guy was important. That was a good enough reason for him.

The terrace was about ten or so feet above him, about twice his mother's height. The surface of the mansion was made of smooth marble like the one they used in the fountain, and it looked like it was lined with real gold. It ruled out his plan of climbing up. There were no visible fire escape ladders either. But Kesuke hadn't come unprepared.

He dropped his bag to the floor and started rummaging through its content until he found something that resembled an innocent hairdryer, only it had a giant hook protruding from its nozzle and a gun trigger. It was his entry for the science fair that took place the previous year. His invention had proved itself useless until now. Kesuke aimed it at the thick handrail around the terrace and smirked.

_Nothing is safe from me_.

-**oOo**-

Ryoma Echizen willed himself not to break anything that was in a five-mile radius even though he very much wanted to. He growled mentally, not wanting to startle the maids who were running to and fro from room to room. _This was supposed to be my day. _My_ day_, he repeated as stopped himself from smashing a giant, antique mirror which he just passed by into smithereens.

First, his 'alone' time was disrupted by his ever-so-faithful personal assistant even when he specifically said that no one, repeat, no one should ever disturb him during his 'alone' time for whatever reason. Were a couple of hours for himself way too much for people around him to stop bugging him? _Was it too much to ask?_

Second, the lunch with his wife went as well as orange juice with coffee creamer. She was such an annoying woman that the more he saw her, the more he didn't want to see her. And that made sense to Ryoma, being married for almost a decade to someone he barely even gave a thought about.

Third, he had to fight tooth and nail to convince the body guards that he did _not_ need an escort when walking from his limousine and back into his office. It took a considerable amount of time to convince them that _he_ had grown up in this God-forsaken manor and that _he_ knew this place like the back of his hand. Thirty-one years of living and people still treated like he was this 5-year-old who needed training wheels for his bike. It made him frustrated to no end.

Fourth… No, there was no fourth. And Ryoma silently thanked the heavens for that. If anyone – or anything – ever got on his nerve again, he swore he would break whatever or whoever it was in half and crush the remnants into confetti.

_Breathe. Don't forget to breathe._

He slowly did an inhale-exhale.

_Fuck, I act like I'm a girl having PMS or something_, he suddenly realized as he was about to reach for the doorknob of his double doors. But something had stopped him midway.

He heard the sound of rustling inside his office. There was no doubt about it.

_The maids probably forgot to close the window when I left_, he remembered. _Fuji never goes inside this room when I'm not around not unless I tell him to_, he thought, slowly taking hold of his pocket handgun inside his coat. Secretly carrying firearms around was a habit he got from his psycho of a mother.

His senses heightened automatically. _Okay, make this the fourth._

There were quick, soft footsteps which sounded like they were made by small feet and a slightly louder 'thump' like something quite heavy was dropped to the floor. He then heard the same rustling sound again.

Ryoma snorted derisively at whomever it was that was infiltrating his office. _Talk about stealth_. _If you were someone worth shooting, you'd have better sneakiness._ He gripped his handgun with both hands tighter and placed his forefinger on the trigger, ready to pull just in case it was indeed someone threatening. He had on a bulletproof vest like he always did whenever he went out. Taking his stance, he raised the gun and kicked the double doors open.

-**oOo**-

**Author's Annoying Note**: Hey, guys! Hmm… I wonder who Ryoma just pointed a gun at? :D I just love cliffhangers even when it's so damn obvious what the next part is. Thank you for those who loyally read and reviewed. I love you all. Till next chapter. Tata! :)


	21. CHAPTER TWENTY: Found

RAINDROPS

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Prince of Tennis_ (nor Ryoma for that matter). sobs

**Author's Note**: It never fails to amaze me that even though I'm legally an adult, I still find my sweet sanctuary in Saturday morning cartoons and junk food. :D

**Another Irrelevant Note**: A few days ago, I accidentally left my dorm unlocked and went out to go to an internet café with my boyfriend. I left my wallet (which had around 65) inside my room and brought change just in case. Around fifteen minutes later, I went back to my dorm to grab my wallet and purse and went out again to catch a movie with my boyfriend at the mall. When we were about to pay for the movie snacks (it was my share), I took out my wallet to find out that I only had, like, ten bucks left. Turns out, one of the boarders in my dorm is a petty thief and the bitch got away with it when we went to the police. She said we lacked "physical evidence" even though we had an eye witness and that she was the only one who was there when the crime happened. Yeah, so there. I just gave away 55 this week so I'm just so effing broke and pissed. That's the reason why I updated so late. I lost inspiration along with my money. LOL. Apologies, apologies, apologies.

-**oOo**-

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

_Found_

Kesuke quietly heaved himself over the window sill and repositioned his bag on his shoulder, toppling down face first into the floor with a loud 'thump.' Wincing, he stopped himself from yelping out in pain and straightened up, brushing off his sleeve. He unconsciously muttered a word that would've driven his mother berserk.

He ignored the stinging of his nose and looked around with wide eyes at the actual _office_ of, according to Eiji, one of the richest men in the world. It had not been a let down. His jaws dropped to the floor. _This is wicked._

Kesuke had seen pictures of the presidential oval office from his history classes at school, and the resemblance was very uncanny, right down to the embroidered logo on the floor, except instead of an eagle clutching scrolls, there was a tennis ball with a racket in the background. With that, he knew he had the right office.

With a sheepish grin that reached his ears, he dropped his bag on the floor and took out his camera. He then began taking pictures of everything his eyes had laid upon – various trophies, medals that were stack on shelf after shelf from different tennis competitions. A couple of them were from the US Open and there was even one that was bagged from Wimbledon. And they all bore the same name: _Echizen_.

Kesuke raised his eyebrow. _This guy's pretty good_, he thought as he took one last picture and moved to the messy work desk to his left. Camera in his hand, he skimmed over the papers littering the surface. There was nothing interesting – just a bunch of graphs and weird terms he didn't know of. He could barely understand what they said, but something else did catch his eye.

Carefully, he pushed some of the random documents aside to reveal a particular framed photo that made Kesuke feel nostalgic. He took it into his hand and brought it closer to his eyes, not letting a single detail pass his brown eyes.

It was a picture of a man with his hand on the shoulder of a young boy, most probably his son. The father was in a black business suit, had dark skin, and short, brown, spiky hair. The son on the other hand was pale with messy, black or dark green hair. He had on a private school uniform and a white tennis cap. They both bore the same sharp, catlike eyes, except that the man's were black and the little boy's were yellow.

Kesuke furrowed his brows broodingly. _That's freakishly weird_, he thought. He was intensely focused on the son, whose face was stiff and deadpanned. He raised the camera and focused it on the photo. _It's either my eyesight sucks like Mom's or this guy looks like my long lost twin or something—_

_BAM!_

Kesuke felt like he was electrocuted. He dropped the frame in surprise and heard it shatter on the floor. His head snapped up as he found himself face to face with an empty, steel barrel of a gun and a pair of golden eyes that could possible tear flesh.

_Uh-oh_.

-**oOo**-

He blinked twice at what he saw.

If anyone would be looking at a distance, they would in their right mind to call social services. The scene was very disturbing.

_What the hell_—

Ryoma Echizen, well-renowned CEO, named one of the wealthiest men in the face of the planet, was pointing a Desert Eagle handgun on an unsuspecting little boy who had somehow made his way to his office. It was enough to make his sales, not to mention reputation, plummet into oblivion.

He scowled as he slowly lowered his gun and tucked it back into his coat. Ryoma half-expected the kid to scramble out the window where he probably snuck in, but he just stood there, stunned, staring at him with wide, emotionless eyes.

_He's probably from the tour_, he thought, sighing inwardly. _Damnit, Eiji_. He noted the digital camera in his hand.

The little boy just stood there, unmoving, not making a single sound. It was giving Ryoma the goose bumps, the way he looked at him like a statue. He was never really the one for kids, but he took this opportunity to test his child communication skills. He scoffed. _Good luck with that._

"Hey," Ryoma finally said. _This is going to be harder than I thought._

The kid remained frozen. Apparently, it was kind of hard not to be after almost being shot.

Ryoma cleared his throat. _This is going to be harder than I thought._ "Hey, it's okay," he repeated, taking a step closer. The boy's reaction took him by surprise.

"Get back!" he warned in his little voice, snapping out of his trance and resuming a fighting stance. He backed up. "Get back, I tell you! I'm a blue belt in karate. My teacher says I'll be on my way to a black belt in no time! You don't wanna fight with me if you wanna live!"

The older man rolled his eyes at the antics. _You know, he's kinda cute._ "I got my black belt when I turned seventeen," Ryoma told the kid.

The little boy's eyes rounded a bit more, emphasizing their shape and color.

It made Ryoma stop. _Wait a sec_, he thought. The boy's features were definitely something that struck him head-on. _That's about the oddest thing I've seen since I saw Ryoga sleeping with a blankie when he was twelve_—

Ryoma always thought that he and his brother were the only ones who had the peculiar hair color they were born with. Strangely enough, the boy's head was also the same shade of deep blue green. _Come to think of it, even the eyes are the same_—

"Please don't tell m-my coach!" the kid asked as his voice started to break. Tears were forming on the sides of his eyes. "I might get kicked off the t-team! Cause if you tell him, then h-he's gonna tell my Mom! And my mom d-doesn't know I'm h-here cause I f-forged the reply s-slip cause I knew she w-w-wouldn't let me, but I really wanted t-to go—!" He sniffed and wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket.

Ryoma blinked at the crying kid beside his desk. The way he stuttered almost every word disturbed him a bit. _Oh God, what the hell am I supposed to do here? First my wife and now I have to deal with this? If something happens to this kid, I'm dead. Signature forging by a school kid. Does my insurance cover that?_

"Hey," he said again, slowly pacing towards the boy who wouldn't stop crying into his jacket sleeve. He knelt down in one knee in front of him. _I'd better let him off. What harm could a little kid do?_ "You wanna make a deal?"

The kid didn't look up, but his sobbing subsided a bit.

Ryoma sighed. "Okay, I won't tell your coach that you were snooping around in my office. I'll just tell them you got lost and you bumped into me. People get lost in here all the time." he said.

This seemed to quiet him down. Ryoma let out another breath.

"But you have to promise me that you'll tell your mother what you did," he added.

The boy looked up this time, an incredulous look plastered on his face. "H-huh?" he stammered. "B-but she's gonna ground m-me for a whole week! I can't have that when I've g-got tennis p-p-practice everyday!"

Ryoma remembered that it was a tennis varsity team who came for a tour. The uncanny resemblance of the boy was still getting to him. "I'm sure your mother wouldn't do that," he said, trying to be comforting without losing his corporate-ness, if that was humanly possible.

"Yes, she w-will!" the boy said, wiping his tears away defiantly. "You don't know how she is when she gets m-mad!"

The older man was starting to get a little frustrated. He had to get this kid back to the tour before he gets accused of something stupid like kidnapping. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do," Ryoma said slowly, calmly. "I'm going to take you back to you your field trip and I won't tell them anything—"

Ryoma stopped in mid-sentence when his sharp, gold orbs landed unexpectedly on the name that was sewn in blue over the boy's jacket. The lettering was small, simple, and handmade. The sight gave him the chills and his heart sank a couple of notches. It hit him like a giant, unexpected tsunami.

_K. Ryuuzaki_

He blinked twice, refusing to believe his eyes. He thought it was just a trick of the light or perhaps an illusion, something that was seemingly impossible. The kid stared at Ryoma with confusion written on his young, bubbly face. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

_Is my mind fucking playing tricks on me?_

-**oOo**-

Sakuno Ryuuzaki was not pleased.

She was not pleased _at all_.

"_Horio_," she pried the name out of her mouth with all the patience and respect she had. A vein was twitching on her forehead. "When are you going to get the fact that I'm way too busy with the _Times_, caught up with paying the house bills, and dealing with unreliable writers to even consider dating?" _Much less dating you?_

The man grinned proudly and adjusted his tie. "Well, as you can see, my dear," he began, causing Sakuno to break the led of her pencil on an unfinished article. "I've made countless contributions to this reputable newsprint for the past years now—"

"I mean, you try raising a seven-year-old boy alone!"

"—critically-acclaimed articles, after being a full-proof copyreader, there's just nothing I can't do! I'm just so disturbed as to why you won't accept my invitation for dinner—"

"I've way more important things to do than listen to you and your senseless babbling, so if you'll excuse me—"

"—and it's very evident that without me, this paper would be as good as pulp—"

"_What?!_"

Horio's supposed reply was silenced completely when a crumpled piece of paper went zipping at point-blank range into his open mouth. The EIC stood up, towering over the shaking form of her Opinions writer, her shadow creeping on the carpeted floor. In her hand was a newly-sharpened, very pointy HB pencil.

"Say that again," she hissed dangerously. _I don't have time for this._ "Say that again and your employment will be _as good as pulp_. No, correct that. _You_ will be as good as pulp."

Horio said something illegible. But Sakuno didn't care.

"Get out of my office. Now."

The man willingly obliged and trudged away, hunched-backed. No one dared to stand up against Sakuno when she was like this, especially if one of her subordinated said _anything_ against the paper she worked so hard for.

She rubbed her temples in an attempt to soothe the migraine that was coming.

_When will that guy give up? I just don't understand why he tries so hard? There are plenty of women in this office building who are more _desirable_ than me, but why, oh _Kami_, why _me_?_

Sakuno had actually considered giving him a chance. But decided it was far too risky. Heck, she didn't want to be imprisoned for a homicidal attempt at the most arrogant, egotistical, big-headed man she had ever met—

A glint from a rock on her finger snapped her out of her thoughts.

_Are you sure that's the reason, Sakuno?_ a voice in her head spoke so suddenly that she was surprised herself.

A couple of seconds passed.

She ran a tired hand over her face in frustration.

_No, I don't think that's the reason why._

-**oOo**-

"Hey, mister," Kesuke piped out, sniffing. "What are you looking at?"

_He looks like he just saw a ghost or something._

The tall man in the dark business suit didn't twitch a muscle. It was his turn to gape; dumbstruck at whatever – or whoever – it was before his yellow eyes. The thing that disturbed Kesuke the most was that he wasn't even blinking nor breathing. It was like his breath was suddenly caught in his chest.

Kesuke felt his fear and surprise wane as the man remained frozen in place. His tears had dried already, his blood flowed back into his cold veins, and he found himself raising his eyebrows inquisitively. His undying curiosity got the best of him.

"Hey, you're the guy in the picture!" he squeaked, pointing to Ryoma with a rather accusing index finger, its tip hovering a centimeter away from the man's nose.

This seemed very effective and it snapped him out of his torpor.

The man looked a little dazed. "What… picture?" he said slowly, as if afraid his choice of words could cause an explosion.

"That one! The one on the desk!" Kesuke then indicated the small picture frame on the man's messy table. _This guy's weird_, he thought absentmindedly. _And to think I was scared of him a while ago. Pfft._

Yellow eyes flickered to the particular piece of bric-a-brac for a moment before shifting his gaze back at Kesuke again. His pale complexion grew paler for some unknown reason. "Oh," he said, looking weary, confused, and shocked all together. "That… was taken a long time ago."

_Yeah, like I didn't figure that out on my own_, Kesuke thought. _I'm not five years old anymore_. _I wouldn't mind getting as tall as you though._ "Wow, so you won all those cool trophies on the shelf?" he asked, eyes widening with excitement, ignoring the other's rigidity.

The man looked like he was about to be sentenced to death, but he simply nodded in reply. His thin lips were slightly parted as his sharp eyes bore into the Kesuke's. The boy chose to crush it aside, his exhilaration flooding his system. He then began babbling like there was no tomorrow.

"Oh, my God, _you're_ Ryoma Echizen! You're the guy who runs this _awesome_ company right? That's what my tour guide said! I'm a _big_ fan of your tennis rackets! They're, like, the best God-given, man-made invention known to humanity! I got my first racket when I was five and it was _Nitoryuu_ and I still have it till now! It's still in perfect shape even though I practiced with it everyday for two and a half years cause the quality is just awesome, but too bad it got too small for me and I had to get a new one cause I grew a lot cause my mom always made me drink soy milk every morning! She says I need it if I wanna be a really great tennis player someday."

He finished his drivel with a wide, bright smile that reached his ears. Kesuke stood proud, his hands on his hips and his nose high in the air.

The man couldn't help but stare. He seemed hesitant at first but he finally said something after his moments of unperturbed silence.

"What's your name?"

Kesuke opened his eyes and blinked at the question. _Mom said to never talk to strangers, but what the heck! He's a CEO with mad tennis skills! I don't think that counts as 'stranger.'_ "I'm Kesuke," he answered smugly as he pointed to the embroidery on his jersey. "Kesuke Ryuuzaki."

Blood left the man's face. He looked ashen, ghostly even. His illegible glare bore into Kesuke's chocolate eyes in a manner that made a shiver erupt from his core. The feeling of anticipation and fear returned as quickly as it went away. He was starting to get a little scared again.

_What's up with this psycho?_ he thought as he tried to take a step back. _Does tennis have this effect on older people? I think Eiji left out something about this CEO dude: 'Despite being an unworldly tennis prodigy, Ryoma Echizen is also a psycho-freak who has mood swings every other minute or so—'_

With the way the man was looking at him, Kesuke felt like he was a stray animal who caught his attention. He was kneeling down to level his gaze with his and one of his elbows was slung over his raised knee. The expression on his hard face was unreadable and stripped of any sign of emotion. It was like looking at a very realistic wax figure.

He looked the same as he did when the particular picture on the desk was taken, except that his boyish, youthful features were gone, replaced with mature and more angular ones. Kesuke estimated he was twice his height now and that they had the same odd color of hair. That part was weird. He had always thought that he was the only one in the face of the planet gifted with such a strange hair color.

"What's your mother's name?" the man then asked him.

Kesuke raised his eyebrow at the unexpected prying. But he knew better. No, he wasn't about to tell him his mother's name not after the ridiculous thing he did. He knew his mother by heart and he could almost predict her reaction that it made him want to laugh. She would ground him for a week – no, a month, if she ever found out what her son did. There was _no way_ in his entire existence he would tell, especially if the one he was talking to was a psychotic, never mind the fact that he was uber-famous.

"Why should I answer that, mister?" Kesuke snapped, crossing his arms and pouting. "You're really rich and you have connections. After you send me back to my field trip, you're gonna call my mom and tell me off. I can tell from the glint in your eyes!"

The man rolled his yellow orbs. There was a hint of impatience. "Okay, how about we make another deal?" he asked in measured tones.

"What?" Kesuke still had his arms crossed on his chest.

Clearing his throat, the man shifted slightly. "If you tell me your mother's name now, I won't tell your coach that you were trespassing in my office and I won't bother giving your mom a phone call," he began. "If you don't, I'm going to tell them that you gave them the slip and went snooping around unsupervised. And inevitably _they_ are going to tell your mother about what you just did. Take your pick."

_Darn_, Kesuke thought, frustrated. _He got me there_.

He weighed his options and decided on the better choice.

"Fine," Kesuke said. "Her name's Sakuno. Sakuno Ryuuzaki."

-**oOo**-

**Author's Note**: Hello, everyone! How I missed writing! I hope this chappy doesn't disappoint you guys. I know you're all looking for some RyoSaku action, but I just can't speed up the flow of the story since it'll look a little… rushed. So there. The encounter of our two star-crossed lovers will be in the next chapter or two. Thank you for keeping up with me despite my absence. See you next week, probably. :)


	22. CHAPTER TWENTYONE: Intertwined

**RAINDROPS**

_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic_

By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: Yeah, I noticed that, too. I wished that a lot more things happened in last chapter. I was gonna add one last part at the end but the last scene it felt like the right place to cut it. So there. Sorry for the wait and I'm back with a new chappie (written with a fever and cold). Hey, at least I've some excuse to lock myself up in my dorm and write for as long as I want. :) I'm contagious. Don't come too near the monitor. :)

**Irrelevant Note**: I just feel like letting this out cause I'm threatening to go nuclear any moment. God, there's this guy in one of my afternoon math classes who just becoming as annoying as a big wedgie. Our current lesson's pretty hard, but I can follow quite perfectly. And then he just starts shooting me with these very rude, behind-the-back comments when he couldn't get the lesson himself. I mean, _hello_? Earth to bitchy guy? Are you, like, gay or something? It's so not my fault that _I_ actually _understand_ the lesson and _you_ _can't_. So deal with it.

_xll KUROI TSUBASA llx_: Thank you for your many reviews. Haha. :)) It's kinda weird, I know. I wanted the setting to be in Tokyo, but I don't really know how they live their cause I haven't really been there. :) So just to make this story more believable, I wrote it in LA since I spent most of my growing-up years there. :) Hey, there are a LOT of Japanese in LA anyway!

-**oOo**-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

_Intertwined_

-**oOo**-

Takeshi Momoshiro ran a hand across his face.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked his wife for the umpteenth time that flight. The anxiety was making him curl his toes in his shoes.

Ann rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Yes, honey, _yes,_" she said, gazing out the small window. Clouds were floating past them. A faint rainbow was visible in the distance. "I'll be fine. We're here already, there's no point turning back again."

"So you mean you're just, like, forced to go through with this because you're already on the plane? It's not because you wanna go through with this, right? We can still catch the next flight back to Japan, you know. The last thing I want you to feel is I'm _making_ you do this—"

Frustrated, the woman groaned in defeat. "Look, Momo, how many times to I have to tell you?" she asked, but she didn't wait for his answer. "I'm okay and I wanna do this. There's no point going back since I _really_ wanna do this."

Momoshiro sighed. "Alright, fine," he shot back. _Kami-sama, please grant me patience and understanding of the female mind just for this trip. I beg You._ He then looked at the calm and collected expression on his wife's soft features. "You know, it's funny how you don't seem to get any wrinkles at all, even though you're as old as—OWWW!"

"Don't even _think_ of going there," Ann said with a sugar-coated smile, brandishing her sneaker at his face. "This is the first time I'm going back home in, what, seven, eight years, and I want to enjoy every moment of it with you. Don't make me do otherwise."

Momoshiro grinned sheepishly. "Alright, already!" He rubbed his head where it throbbed. "Darn, woman, you haven't lost your touch! Haven't lost your touch at all—"

"Good morning! Do you guys need anything?"

Both their heads snapped up to the stewardess hovering with a smile above them.

"Ah, yes," Momoshiro began happily. "Do you, by any chance, have champagne on board—" He was cut off sharply when Ann slapped her hand to his lips.

"No, thank you. We're just dandy," she interjected with a voice that dripped of sickly sweetness.

A muffled cry came from Momoshiro. The stewardess looked confused. "Are you sure?" she asked politely.

Ann smiled wider. "I'm, I mean, _we're_ sure," she replied curtly. "Thanks anyway."

Momoshiro's shoulders sagged in defeat. All he could do was sigh against his wife's palm.

_This was going to be a long, long, long flight._

-**oOo**-

Sakuno Ryuuzaki was having a migraine. And yes, she's been having those a lot lately. It wasn't like she could avoid it like a plague. Part of being an Editor in Chief was migraine. It came with the contract. And she should've read the fine print.

She let out a frustrated breath and bit the small eraser on the rear of her number two pencil like a school girl. Since she had a _little_ row with the best copyreader she had, she could trust her lesser ones with the really important articles that were due to appear on the front page of the _LA Times_. It was her life's motto. _If you want something done right, you gotta effing do it yourself._

Her eyes, sharpened after years of proofreading, scanned the unedited essay line per line, word per word, punctuation per punctuation. It was a gruesome task, but _someone_ had to do it.

Sakuno bit her lip to prevent an aggravated scream from escaping from her mouth. _This looks like it was written by a five-year-old!_ she thought, disgusted. Usually she had more patience that she was showing, but with the deadlines just around the corner, all her tolerance was squished like a pancake.

Then, as if right on cue, her cell phone rang its high, melodious ring. A vein twitched on her forehead before she grabbed the racket-making gadget and took the call.

"Hello?"

A familiar voice replied. "_Sakuno?_" the man said. "_This is Eiji._"

Sakuno felt a little lighter from hearing from her friend. "Oh, Eiji! Yeah, it's me," she said with enthusiasm. She could make out the sound of bickering children in the background. "It's been a while. What's up?"

"_Uhm, you see… Uhm…_" he hesitated at first. Sakuno could imagine him pouting his lips. "_There's… a problem._"

"Huh? What's kind of problem?" she asked, raising her eyebrow inquisitively. _I sense something fishy here…_ "And how does it concern me?" _Oh, _Kami_ forbid. If this is about Horio making a scene again_—

"_Uhm, it's about… your… your son,_" Eiji finished. His voice was low, as though avoiding any eavesdroppers.

Sakuno's heart felt like it was ripped out of her ribcage and slammed on the floor. A million thoughts, pleasant and unpleasant, were flooding her head. Eiji's tone was scaring her. Her body felt numb all of a sudden and the wind was knocked out of her. _Kesuke…_

For the first time in years, Sakuno found herself stuttering. "H-huh?" she asked breathlessly. "What a-about him? Cut to the chase, Eiji! You're gonna give me a heart attack!"

"_Kesuke's missing, Sakuno. We can't find him anywhere_," Eiji said. He couldn't conceal the concern in his voice.

"_WHAT?!_" Sakuno stood up and slammed her hand on her desk, sending papers flying everywhere. She started panicking. "What do you mean you _can't_ find him? He's at school! His school's not that big, it's impossible you can't find him!"

"_What? Did you forget?_" Eiji asked her. "_No, he's not at school. Today's his club field trip._"

"What _field trip_? _Huh_?" Sakuno shrieked indignantly. Her anger was taking over her worried state. She placed two fingers on her temple. "Kesuke never told me anything! I even dropped him at his school this morning!"

Eiji didn't make a sound of a couple of seconds. "_Huh? But he…_" Eiji trailed off, unsure of what to say. "_Never mind that now. What's important is that we find him. He's disappeared completely, as in without a trace._"

_Disappeared?_ Sakuno thought. And she didn't like the sound of it, especially by the way Eiji said it. _Oh, Kesuke, where did you run off to now?_ "How can you lose sight of him, Eiji? Didn't you even recognize him?" She felt sorry for blaming Eiji, but she had no one else to point to.

"_No, I didn't notice him until the Captain said that we were missing one kid_," he explained. "_He kept a low profile most of the trip. I'm really sorry. If I knew that we were coming here, of all places, and Kesuke was along for the ride, I would've kept a closer watch on him._"

_Here, of all places? _Sakuno couldn't place it. The feeling of dread in her chest didn't subside, though this wasn't the first time her son pulled a stunt like this. "What do you mean, Eiji?" she asked him. "Wait, where the hell are you?"

Eiji sighed. "_Be prepared for a blow_," he warned. "_We're at the Echizen Manor_."

-**oOo**-

"Hey! Hey! What does this do?"

Ryoma Echizen couldn't think.

Yes, he probably lost his thinking ability about an hour ago.

He didn't really know what he was doing, why he was doing it, or how.

All he knew was that he was driving his black Eclipse down the busy 101 freeway with a hyperactive kid strapped to the passenger seat. He took his liberty to drop off said kid at his home to get to the bottom of this.

"Oh, wow! That's just _way_ too cool!"

Thank _Kami_ for the slightly tinted windows or paparazzi were most probably hot on his trail ages ago. He gripped the steering wheel and swerved around a slow SUV before him. He didn't _have_ time to _take_ his time. No, he simply _didn't have time_.

Fate was a very cruel mistress he concluded. It was either that or _he_ was a naughty little boy with a magnifying glass hovering menacingly over an anthill. And _he,_ Ryoma, was one of the ants.

He preferred the former.

Why?

He was Ryoma Echizen, famous CEO, born to one of the richest families on the face of the planet. Everything was within his reach with a snap of his finger. With his financial asset and charisma, he could have whatever he wanted, whenever he pleased. Luxury cars, maybe a dozen more manors, and probably another company to top it all off. Hell, he could even have virtually any _women_ he wanted. He could have them wading at his feet if he asked them to.

And yes, Fate chose to screw him up by making him loose his memories and unwittingly made him live the life of a pathetic street criminal who relied on unsuspecting victims to get by. Hell, he didn't even know how he got out of that one. But he knew he had his father to thank for that. He always bore the degrading title of Daddy's Little Boy. _Strike one_.

"Oooh… Can I keep this? Pretty please with caramel syrup on top?" Kesuke held up a small, silver tennis racket keychain he probably got from Ryoma's keys. The older man nodded shakily.

Then, as though that was unsatisfying enough, he got his memories back and met the only woman he had ever love out of billions of others. Fate, being the mischievous, self-entertaining bitch that she was, decided that he wasn't cut out for that woman and made him realize that he simply couldn't have her. Ryoma got a German whore instead. It was just peachy. _Strike two_.

_Oh, God, Sakuno… Why?_

Almost a decade passed and, to be quite honest, not a day went by that he didn't think about her. How was she doing? What had she been up to the in the eight years that he hadn't seen her? Did she still have those chocolate eyes he could get lost in forever? Did she find someone new? Had she forgotten about what they had shared? Had she forgotten _him_?

He had been dying to reach out to her. Oh, how he wanted to hear her sweet, sweet voice again. But he knew he couldn't. If his wife knew that, she'd have turned into a psycho arsonist and burned his beloved family manor to ashes. And besides, what the hell should a decent, respectable man say to a woman whom he had asked to walk away and never look back?

Ryoma felt like hitting his head on the steering wheel over and over again.

Sakuno was the freer one compared to him, and he silently prayed that she would find a way back to him since he himself was tied on a leash. He had always wished that whenever he took a walk in his backyard, he'd find her on the very same spot where he last saw her. She would then run back into his arms and never let go—

But no. Fate, again, had been quite the tricky, little magician.

He never expected this to happen, not right now anyway.

He didn't know how to react to this.

"Remember our deal! No telling my mom that I forged that stupid reply slip. She might _forbid_ me to play tennis ever again!"

First, he couldn't deny the fact that _something_ had happened between him and Sakuno. They were young and star-crossed, probably way too carefree to know the consequences of their actions. But he didn't feel sorry that he did it, especially because it was with her. He could even smell her watermelon shampoo and taste that milky skin—

Second, a kid, looking every bit like Ryoma, shows up at his office and tells him that he was the _son_ of a certain woman named Sakuno Ryuuzaki. The brown eyes gave it away.

Ryoma did the math and felt lightheaded all of a sudden. He decided it was best not to think about it until he got to the bottom of all this. What if her new boyfriend/husband was the exact photocopy of himself? It was a slim, very unlikely possibility, but it was still possible.

_Strike Three. And he's out of here_.

"What exit do we take again?" he asked Kesuke, snapping out of his torpor.

"Twenty-fifth," the boy piped up with a smile. "Then you make a left at the light. Then turn right at the second corner. Our house is the second one on the right."

Ryoma swallowed a lump in his throat. They already went pass Exit 23 so he signaled and switched lanes to the right. He tried with all his might not to think of what lay ahead of him. Would he be able to see her again? Would she welcome him with open arms or shun him?

_Exit 24._

The thoughts raced through his mind. It was like watching Formula One.

He switched lanes again and saw Exit 25 nearing. He couldn't feel his hands anymore. His head was pounding.

_There's no point turning back now_.

"Here it comes!" Kesuke looked through his window and pointed.

Ryoma exited the freeway and slowed down as he came across a stoplight. It was shining green. He made a left and started counting the suburban blocks.

_One… Two…_

He swerved the car to the right, and sure enough, there it was. He carefully parked his Eclipse on the empty slot in front of him and took a breath. He then let his sharp eyes scan the Ryuuzaki residence.

It was a typical middle-class, Californian home – one storied, with a well-maintained, green lawn. The house was peach and was surrounded by what looked like roses.

_Please let her be here_, he prayed. I don't give a damn anymore if she hates me or not. _All I want is to see her again… If that's even a sin by itself then, by God, let me be damned for all eternity._

He watched as Kesuke unbuckled himself from his belt, popped the door open and hopped off the car. He grinned at Ryoma and motioned him to get out. "C'mon Mr. Echizen!" he ushered a stiff Ryoma by the hand across the front lawn and to the front door.

He felt a jolt of surprise as his hand made contact with the boy's. His blood felt like it was skipping.

Ryoma felt a lump of pure steel forming in his throat. It hindered his unconscious capability of breathing and his well-mannered speaking. But he tried his best. "Are… you sure you're allowed to bring… _strangers_ inside your home?" he asked the hyperactive boy who was bouncing on his heels.

Kesuke shook his blue-green head. "Pfft. You're not _actually_ a stranger, Mr. Echizen," he replied as he took out his keys and unlocked the stained-glass framed door. "Everyone who has half a brain knows you! You're, like, the prince of tennis!"

Swallowing, the older man simply nodded at the comment. He watched as the kid swung the door open and scurried inside.

_What the hell am I doing?_

-**oOo**-

Screw the 101. Screw midday traffic. Screw city drivers. Screw the world.

Sakuno always felt like everything was against her when she was in a hurry to get somewhere. It never fails. And it was annoying her to her core.

Not only that. There were also a few things that were contributing to her headache-to-last-for-a-lifetime.

One: Her son, who was a living proof that the Energizer bunny is not just a simple exaggeration, was missing for the nth time. Normally, Sakuno would just clear her head and take off in her search for her missing offspring, but this was not a situation that would fall under "normal," even when she was talking about the elusive Kesuke Ryuuzaki. No, it just wasn't.

Why?

Two: Eiji Kikumaru, who she wanted to strangle so unmercifully, phoned her half an hour ago, telling her that said son was at a certain fieldtrip which she was oblivious to. Sakuno knew that the tennis club _never_ allowed children to join activities outside school without parental consent. She raised an eyebrow. Sakuno considered changing her signature to a more… creative one. But no, that wasn't the end.

Why?

Three: Apparently, said fieldtrip was going to be conducted in a place where she never dreamed of taking her son to. Sure, she wanted Kesuke to know the… truth about his father someday, but now isn't the right time. He was far too young to understand everything that the name Ryoma Echizen bellowed.

Sakuno let out a breath from her slightly shaking lips. She knew she had to pay more attention that necessary to the traffic ahead of her lest she might be mistaken for a drunk driver. A hundred questions popped out from one.

What would Kesuke think? Of her? Of his father? Of what they had done? Sakuno knew with her heart that her son was a headstrong boy, but would he be strong enough to understand the things that happened between her and his father? Or why they decided that it was better off that they just don't see each other? It sounded complicated to Sakuno's ears, what more to a wide-eyed eight-year-old?

What would Kesuke do if he found out that his very father was the very man who conquered the tennis world he also wished to someday be part of or even to subdue?

Would he think he was some kind of mistake that his father wasn't there for him? Would he think his very own mother was a weak and unwise woman because she couldn't fight for a father for her child? Would Kesuke think of him as a coward for not being able to stand up for his son?

_Oh, _Kami_, what would Ryoma think? The man doesn't have any idea that he has a son to begin with!_

She let her imagination work its magic on that one. She would've burst out laughing at the thought of the tennis prodigy's face when he finds out about the truth, but the situation wouldn't let her. Unconsciously, a small smile found a way to her lips at the thought of him.

It had been almost eight years since she last saw him – personally, that is. For the past three or so years, the name Ryoma Echizen has been popping out here and there in the very newspaper she was working for. He was a business tycoon now after retiring from tennis. And to be quite honest, it was hard – no, brutal – in its first few months for her.

Sakuno was frustrated and hurting to no end. It was probably the most difficult thing to do – seeing her love in print and not being able to touch him like she used to. It was as if he already moved on, for God's sake! She even cursed herself because those golden feline eyes, dark hair, and unwavering façade still had the same effect on her as though he didn't ask her to walk away from him.

Then there was that faithful when she found out she was carrying his child. It was… a bittersweet moment for Sakuno since she had always wanted to be a mother, especially when it was to Ryoma's kids. But, God, she wasn't really ready for all that! Her so-called relationship with the CEO was well-hidden from everyone she knew, with the exception of Tomoka and Eiji, of course.

Nevertheless, she got over that, and she embraced the possibility that maybe… she could do this on her own, that Kesuke didn't really need a father to grow, that everything was meant to be the way it was supposed to be, that all would fall into place someday.

But she didn't at all expect it to fall this way! Not now, not when _their_ son is way too young and innocent, not now that her career is at stake, not now when she herself is just generally a messed-up woman.

_Oh, shit. Why me? Why am I caught up in this true-to-life dramathon? Am I watching too many soap operas to last a lifetime?!_

Sakuno shook her head wildly and let her tangle hair lay strewn all over her blotchy face. She had to clear her head. As if that was remotely possible.

Out of habit, she exited the freeway and routinely drove to her home, thinking that it would be the first place she would think Kesuke would go. All she could do now was hope that she was right, because if she wasn't, God, there would be a million other possibilities of where he could've gone off to.

Frantically, she slowed down to park at her usual parking space, only to find that it was occupied by an all-black, expensive-looking car. Sakuno raised her eyebrow dangerously.

_What the f—? Who the hell are _you_? Everyone in this neighborhood knows this is MY space—_

Not having much of a choice, she skidded to a halt on her driveway, turned off the engine, grabbed her purse and stormed outside her car.

"Kesuke Ryuuzaki, you had better in here, _or else_…" Sakuno whispered to herself lowly as she stomped towards the front door, feelings of dread and frustration leaking into her system. She then fumbled around with her keys and pried the door open.

Her heart nearly dropped when she heard sounds coming from the living room just at the end of the hallway. Her son's black-haired head suddenly popped out from behind the wide doorway. A strong sigh of sweet relief left her.

"MOM!" Kesuke, still clad in his tennis uniform, ran towards Sakuno and into her arms.

She knelt down and buried her nose into her son's hair. _Thank God, you're okay._ She pulled back after a moment, her motherly instincts kicking in. "You, young man, have a lot of explaining to do," she said not-too-harshly as she looked into Kesuke's brown eyes. "And you can start by telling me what you were doing in that field trip without me knowing."

The small boy looked down at his feet and started twiddling his fingers. "Well… you see, I, uhm, sort of signed the parental consent… for you cause I knew that… you wouldn't let me go." He stared up at his mother's facial expression. "Please don't ground me! I love you, Mommy! I promise I won't do it again!"

Sakuno rolled her eyes. "I love you too, but you almost killed me back there when you disappeared into nothing! Your Uncle Eiji called me while I was at work and told me about it. You had no idea what you made Mommy think of when you ran off like that!" _Looks like he didn't find out about everything… That's good._

Kesuke looked back at his toes again and started swaying in place. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said meekly, hands behind his back. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"It's okay, not that I know your safe, and I'm sorry I yelled at you," Sakuno said with a kiss on the forehead. "What I do wanna know is how the heck did you get here—?"

"Kesuke?"

Sakuno felt like the wind was knocked out of her. The ground she was standing on crumbled into oblivion, leaving her suspended in a shocked state she didn't know she could get out of.

Despite after eight long years, she'd know that voice anywhere; she'd hear it even if there were a million other voices talking at the same time. She could never quite forget it either.

_Oh, God…_

She slowly lifted her head, fearing for what she might see, but she knew she'd eventually have to know. It was like the whole room evaporated, leaving her and the man standing by the doorway. She couldn't breathe.

Talk about taking her breath away.

It was like those eight years apart had never happened.

She couldn't quite believe her eyes even if everything was right in front of her. It had felt like an eternity.

There he was, black hair, golden feline eyes, pale skin, looking just as surprised as she was. Right then and there, Sakuno knew he was the same man she had fallen in love with – the man whom she was still madly in love with.

He was wearing his normal business tycoon outfit, black slacks, and white polo shirt. He must've taken off his coat. Her eyes then began playing with the topmost button…

Her knees would've buckled if she were standing.

The invisible force that was drawing her body to his was pulling her. She fought hard to resist.

She wanted to hurt him, to make him feel the pain he made her feel when she found out that she had to raise their child alone.

She wanted to hit him for making her leave that night in his manor.

She wanted to cry in his arms just because he was here after so long.

She wanted to push him away because she knew he would leave them again eventually. His life would never let them be happy together.

She wanted to run away and just forget about him.

But she knew it was futile.

Slowly, she stood up.

"Mom! Mom!" Kesuke voice sounded like it was coming from galaxies away. "This is Mr. Ryoma Echizen! I know you know him! He's the really cool dude who runs the tennis company that makes the rackets I'm using! And he was really nice enough to drop me off here!"

Sakuno could barely feel her son's fingers tugging on hers. Her eyes were fixed, hypnotized, at the man she had yearned to see for so long. It was aching not being able to touch his face like she could before—

Ryoma wasn't moving either – he barely blinked. Sakuno knew there were a thousand thoughts running through his head that moment.

"Kesuke, honey," she told the ecstatic boy without looking at him. "Go to your room."

The kid looked confused. "Huh? But why?"

"Just go, okay? Mommy and Mr. Echizen have something important to talk about."

_It is on._

-**oOo**-

Ryoma was smitten.

No, that was the understatement of the year.

He was obsessed.

And he knew he had it bad.

There was no way he could deny the attraction that instantly bound them together. It was so powerful, it was almost visible.

She hasn't changed a bit – eight freaking years of not seeing her and she still looked like how she was the last time she saw her.

_How the hell did she do that?_

He could just look at her like this for an eternity or more and he would still find himself falling more and more in love. It was a maze he couldn't get out of.

Her brown eyes still looked like chocolate, the same shade as her long hair. Her skin was perfectly flawless – She was downright _beautiful_.

Ryoma silently prayed that she wouldn't smile. God forbid, if he ever saw that smile that drove him to the border of insanity, he didn't know what he could do.

That voice, that sweet feminine ring he missed so much – he wanted to hear her say his name again and again and again…

"Kesuke, honey," he heard her say. "Go to your room."

He felt like he was stabbed in the chest. Did Sakuno feel that she should be protecting _their_ son from him? No, he didn't need confirmation that he was Kesuke's father. It was evident not just physically. Their son reminded Ryoma of him as a small child, and it made his blood skip.

_Shit._

He let his eyes roam her body as she just stood there, unmoving and unwavering. He took in her gentle curves that were betrayed by the cotton shirt and slim jeans she was wearing. _Damn, she still looks hot even after having a kid…_

When Kesuke had disappeared upstairs, Sakuno cleared out her throat and placed her hands on her hips defensively like she was gearing up her vocabulary for something.

_Oh, you're not gonna go easy on me, huh, Sakuno?_ Ryoma thought.

He chuckled mentally.

_We'll see_.

-**oOo**-

**Author's Note**: Hey guys! No, I am NOT dead! :) I've just been really busy with school stuff and all. Too much load can drive a girl crazy, you know. :) I'm sorry the delay! Please don't kill me. :( But I hope I didn't disappoint you guys cause you waited way too long. Thank you for those who read an reviewed when I was away. I really appreciate it. BIG HUG! :D

I might update around after a week or two since it's term break, and I don't really have school work anymore. :)


	23. CHAPTER TWENTYTWO: Reborn

**RAINDROPS  
**_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic  
_By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Prince of Tennis_.

**Author's Note**: Aww. Thank you for the love and appreciation! :D You guys have no idea how much your reviews keep me writing and writing. :) So there… This story's almost over, sad to say. This is officially the last chapter. :) So hold your breath! :D

_Hajimari_: Hahaha. Since _when_ was Ryoma ever uncomfortable? That's not in his vocabulary. :)

**Irrelevant Note**: Life is GOOD. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. There's an epilogue after this, don't worry. :D

**Warning**: Cheeziness ahead. Buckle your seatbelt for safety.

-**oOo**-

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO  
**_Reborn_

_Until the day I die,  
__I spill my heart for you._

-**oOo**-

Kesuke noisily stomped his sock-clad feet up the staircase as directed by his mother, who, he had noticed, was acting very, very strange for some reason.

_This is unfair_, he thought sullenly. _I want to talk to Mr. Echizen! The kids in the tennis club are so not gonna believe this!_

He heaved out a sigh of defeat as he made his way towards his bedroom at the end of the hall.

All his eight-year-old life, he was used to a Sakuno Ryuuzaki who was always in control of things. She was an extrovert woman, probably because of spending too much time with her Aunt Tomo, who was the noisiest woman he had ever met. She can be too over-protective at times that it made Kesuke frustrated to the point that he wanted to run away from home.

But he loved his mom. Young as he is, he knew that, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

Now, it was just odd to his eyes to suddenly see his mom so… distracted and lost. The way her eyes went blurry and glazed as she looked at the man Kesuke had brought home with him. That was just freaky. He didn't even think she was breathing!

Ryoma Echizen was a very famous man, a very famous and _good-looking_ man, and he knew exactly how his mother reacted to these kinds of situations. Just like how she almost threw a fit when she personally saw Matt Damon for the first time in an interview.

So why was she like this?

_Something's up_, he concluded as his undying curiosity kicked into gear. The cogs started turning in his head.

His small hand twisted the doorknob as soon as he reached his room. Kesuke then pushed the door open and closed it after a couple of seconds, making sure that the sound was loud enough to be audible downstairs. Soundlessly, he tiptoed back at the landing of the stairs and listened intently.

There was shuffling of feet. His mother and Mr. Echizen were headed towards the living room.

Kesuke cringed when he heard the high-pitched, female voice he knew so well.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

-**oOo**-

Sakuno didn't know what to feel or say, so she blurted out the first thing that came up to her mind, no matter how stupid it sounded to her ears.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Ryoma rolled his feline eyes. "Tch," he said as he flopped down on the sofa and reclined his back coolly. "What d'you think I'm doing?"

Her head started spinning. _How—what… Oh, shit._ There was no way she was going to succumb to this man despite how her body desperately wanted to. "Oh, you're being smart with me now, _Ryoma_?" she asked him, her voice icy. "Well, then, let me rephrase that: _Why_ are you here?"

The man smirked briefly. "Apparently, _your son_ is a master of trespassing and sneaking into other people's private property," he replied as he eyed Sakuno with his trademark nonchalance.

_My son? He… still doesn't know?_ "What?" she said as she placed a hand on her forehead and her other hand on her hips. She shifted her gaze towards one of the pictures on the wall, the one taken during one of Kesuke's always-impressive tennis matches. "What're you talking about?"

_Must not look at him. Must resist deadly, Echizen charms. Must not look at him._

"When I got back from a meeting, I found him snooping around in my office," Ryoma snapped with a hint of… _sarcasm_?_ Was that sarcasm?_ "And, apparently, you had no idea at all that he was at my estate."

_Are you saying something about how I'm trying to raise my son?_ No, Sakuno wasn't going to tolerate this. If there was one person in the whole world who knew how to raise her child, it was her, even if Ryoma was actually her son's… "Kesuke is a naturally inquisitive boy just like any other eight-year-old," Sakuno said, trying to control her building anger. "I'm sure all he took were pictures."

This made Ryoma quiet down for a moment. "He looks like a very smart young man," he said, his tone softening slightly but noticeably. Sakuno felt like she was run over by a truck.

_He knows._

She should've expected that. Ryoma was no fool, even though he had been acting like one for the past eight years.

"Y-yes, he is a very smart boy." _Just like his father. _Sakuno looked up to Ryoma, to meet his yellow eyes, trying to make him understand everything without saying anything. The man still had the same effect on him and it was getting harder not to show it. "He's—he's a straight A student, and…"

"You haven't changed a bit, Sakuno."

Her heart felt like it was crushed into confetti at his words. The way he had said her name felt like a drink of water after a long, long walk in the desert. It was like alcohol in her boiling blood.

And his voice. Oh, that voice which never ceased to echo over and over again in her head even in his absence.

But she wasn't going to give in that easily, no.

"Ryoma…" she whispered, her throat was constricting painfully as she said his name. "Why are you here?" she pressed on. "Why _now_?"

The man seemed at lost for words. He opened his mouth and closed it immediately, unsure of what to say. But when he finally did find his answer, it didn't help Sakuno at all. "I don't know," he said quietly. "It… It was the only thing I could think of doing. To… come back to you—"

_What are you trying to say?_

Sakuno finally snapped.

"Oh, so you _think_ you can just walk back into my life after making _me_ leave you? After leaving _me_?" she spat. She didn't care anymore if Kesuke could hear her upstairs. Let the boy know who his real father is. It would serve him best not to follow his footsteps.

_How dare you think you can come back now?_

Her heart was thumping wildly against her aching chest. It was like she couldn't feel anymore. She was better off dead. Her vision went cloudy and dim, obscuring any rational thinking.

"Eight years, Ryoma. _Eight years_. You don't have any idea at all how hard it was for me – for us! You don't know what it's like to raise a son alone. Do you know what kind of torture that is? To not know what I'd say to Kesuke when he starts asking about _his father_?"

Ryoma was as stiff as a statue, his façade unfaltering and still, his face void of all emotions. And it fueled her anger more and more. She wanted to hurt him physically. What she was feeling now was beyond emotional and psychological and it was driving her over the edge.

Sakuno couldn't feel her clenched hand. She was surprised when she realized that tears were falling down her face and she didn't even know it.

_Screw you. Screw you for making me feel this way._

"You had it way better than I did, Ryoma," she said as she gritted her teeth. _Way better_. She leaned against the wall for support. "Were you too busy having the time of your life in your mansion? How's your _wife_ by any chance? I guess she's better than me at everything since you chose to get married to her and not me—"

"You _think I_ had it better than _you_?" Ryoma interjected suddenly, making Sakuno jump. "You must be real thick if you think my life's just a blast."

She faked a hollow laugh and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "Oh, is it? It must be really miserable to have all the money in the world at the palm of your hand. I guess that's what keeps you satisfied, huh, Ryoma?"

Sakuno knew she had said the wrong words, but she kept on going despite how she knew Ryoma was going to react. He deserved it anyway.

_Was I just another one of his women to him?_

No, she couldn't accept that.

The words quickly flew out of her mouth before she could even think about them.

"Tell me, how many other girls have you fucked lately? Am I just one of your whores who's unlucky enough to get pregnant—?"

"If you think I wasn't miserable in that God-forsaken manor, you'd better think again," warned Ryoma, his tone was icy and as sharp as his hawk eyes. "It's _you_ who should've come looking for me, Sakuno. The people around me want me to do things I _don't_ want to do while you can do whatever you want without them breathing down your neck." He snorted in disgust. "You think _I_ wanted to get married? _Think again_. You think I _didn't_ want to run after you that night I made _you_ walk away? _Think again_. You think my life is better than yours the moment you stepped out of my life? _Think again_."

Sakuno couldn't find her voice. Or better yet, she couldn't find the will to speak. Seeing Ryoma like this was alien to her.

And it was scaring her to no end.

She almost wanted to bolt out the door.

Ryoma chuckled scornfully, his eyes never leaving hers. She didn't dare look away. "You had no idea at all how _miserable_ it was in that _pathetic_ excuse of a house," he said. "When my older brother ran away, all I could ever think of was doing the same thing because it was the only thing that seemed right. And I guess it is."

His anger was radiating from his body, it was almost tangible. It was burning her skin. Sakuno could sense that Ryoma was using up all his strength to control himself.

His lifetime frustrations, thirty-one years of living in shackles, he was pouring in onto her.

He slowly stood up and took slow steps towards her.

Sakuno felt her back collide with the wall behind her. She was cornered.

"It was a prison, a living hell," he began lowly and dangerously as she came closer and closer to her. Every step reverberated through her being like a drumbeat. He was just a couple of feet away from her now. "There wasn't a day at all these past eight fucking years that I didn't think of you, Sakuno. Every single moment you were gone felt like an _eternity_."

She was at a loss for words. All traces of malice from her body melted away.

It was impossible for her to hate him, may it be in this lifetime or the next.

And she could feel his pain so well as if it were her own.

"Yes, I can have everything – anything – I want! Shit, I can even sell my soul and buy it back without so much as lifting a finger!" Ryoma half-yelled, probably unaware of Sakuno flinching at his every word, unaware that his son was probably listening upstairs. "But the only I've ever wanted so badly was the one thing I couldn't possibly have, and that's what's… unfair."

His abrupt change in tone took Sakuno by surprise.

She honestly didn't know what to say. Sakuno couldn't even bear to look at his face, afraid of what she might do if she did.

Ryoma drew his face closer to hers and rested his balled fist beside her head for support.

"But I guess, after so long, you've finally realized what you want… or don't want," he finished meekly, all signs of spite faltering, his gaze dropping to the floor.

_Yes, I've realized what I want_, she yearned so much to voice out, but her lips only trembled wordlessly as tears fell down her face. She didn't bother controlling her emotions now as she closed her eyes and attempted to clear out her thoughts.

It was like every cell in her body was aching for him, reaching out to feel his skin on hers, but wanting to run away from him at the same time. Sakuno's mind was twisting itself in ways she didn't imagine possible, not even after seeing the only man who ever made her feel that everything was going to be alright despite _everything_.

Ever since she thought she had moved on, she grew somehow accustomed to a future that didn't include Ryoma in it. She was almost close to accepting the fact that there was another man in this world who would make her feel complete, who would stand by Kesuke as a father who gave guidance and discipline that only a man could.

_Kesuke… What would he do if he found out?_

She knew it sounded like she regretted what they… did when they were young, but she didn't. Sakuno _couldn't_ find it in herself to wish that they _didn't_ do what they did. Kesuke was the greatest thing that ever happened to her and she couldn't imagine herself without her son to brighten her day despite how much he reminded her of the man she tried in vain to put behind her.

It was painful to begin with, to try to forget him all these years. She never thought she was capable of doing so, but she realized that every morning when she woke up, the hurting somehow ebbed away a little if not by so much. Sakuno almost thought she was doing a pretty good job forgetting him and being a single mother to their son.

Or maybe… The pain didn't really go away. Maybe she just got used to it until it didn't really feel like pain anymore, just a nagging emotion that kept pulling at her every now and then. Hell, she didn't even bother putting away the diamond ring he had given her so long ago. It just didn't feel right to her – No, she _couldn't_ just put it away…

Forgetting him didn't _seem_ right.

Forcing herself to do something she knew she couldn't do would never _be_ right.

And now, after everything that she had went through, she finally knew the answer.

A voice she knew so well made her crash back to reality.

"So, tell me, Sakuno…" Ryoma whispered in her ear, his tone determined and almost hopeless. His head was hanging beside hers, his hair perfectly concealing his eyes. "What is it that you want?"

The question shattered her resolve. It made her knees buckle.

Every inch of her – mind, body, and soul – was screaming the answer.

A single drop of stray tear fell down her face.

"You," she choked out in a voice that betrayed all of what she felt.

Sakuno didn't know what happened next.

All she felt were his lips as it crashed down on hers.

-**oOo**-

Ryoma pushed her hard against the wall as he closed his eyes, not even caring to think about where they were. All that didn't involve Sakuno was nothing to be concerned about now.

_Screw the company, screw my money, and screw my wife_.

There was a time in his life when he would think about those things before the woman in front of him, when he would let her go so that he could do what he had to, when he made the greatest mistake in his entire existence.

But he wouldn't do it now, or ever again.

Ryoma's body felt like it was burning up and freezing at the same time. It had been so long, he had almost forgotten how kissing her felt like.

Sakuno moved her lips against his slowly, as if deliberately teasing his senses. It was driving him mad.

He gave out a rough moan and opened his mouth, letting his tongue push against her lips, asking for entrance, which she willingly gave him. He licked her insides and tasted her sweetness, her softness, the warmth that made him think of things he didn't know he could think of again.

Ryoma remembered the one night in one of his mansion's bathrooms and he instantly felt naughty. Very, _very_ naughty.

One of his hands found their way to the soft curves of her waist. His fingers hungrily drank in every single dip of her body he missed so much. Sakuno's arms wrapped around his torso in an embrace he didn't want to end. Ryoma slightly lifted the hem of her cotton shirt and ran his fingertips on her skin. He wanted to savor her like there wouldn't be a tomorrow to come.

Her smell… it hadn't changed at all, the same scent of watermelon and… sugar. It was intoxicating him like cocaine. She tasted _better_ than the finest wines money could buy.

Quietly, she cooed against his moving mouth and surrendered, putting all of her weight onto him, letting his strong arms catch him like he always would.

Eight years. Eight long years for this one moment, for this one kiss…

_It's worth it_.

_Nothing else in this entire universe would ever be worth this much_.

Everything he had worked hard for, all the things he did for the future of a company, of a future that would never make him happy…

It all seemed so distant, so trivial, so unimportant.

He felt a surge of guilt when he recalled that he prioritized them more rather than her.

He pulled back a little to take a look at her face. She was dazed, her chocolate eyes lost and blurry with tears as he looked up at him, her long hair tumbling down her shoulders in disarray. But, to him, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on.

She was perfect.

And she was all he could ask for.

Ryoma half-smiled. "I missed you," he whispered kindly, as if speaking too loud would hurt her. And he didn't want to do that. She felt so small, so tiny in comparison to him.

At his words, Sakuno broke into tears. "Ryoma…" she said as she buried her face in the spot between his neck and shoulder and sought refuge in it. Her embrace around him tightened like she wouldn't let go. "I—I… It's been so long… So long… I m-missed you… I missed you so much—"

The rest of her words were drowned by her uncontrollable sobs. Her body shook.

"Shhhhh," he shushed her, resting his nose on top of her head, smelling her hair. He locked his arms around her fragile body protectively. _I won't let you get hurt again. I'd rather kill myself than hurt you again._ "I know, I know. It's okay, I'm here, I'm here."

There was no way he could leave her now, not like this. Not when he was so sure of this one thing his whole life.

He didn't know what to say to his son. The thought of introducing himself as his father made him feel edgy and a little ashamed. Ashamed… because he had let him grow into a fine, young man without a father by his side.

Everything his son was now, it wasn't because of him. It was because he had a strong and beautiful mother who would do anything for her child. And it pained him, not having a role in his son's life. He wanted to change that but he didn't know how.

But he could try though.

All he could hope was that Kesuke would accept him again like his mother had done. Even though he knew he didn't deserve it.

Ryoma unwound one of his arms from her warm body and cupped her face in his hand, tilting Sakuno's face towards his so he could gaze into her eyes, into her soul. "I love you," he whispered to her, making sure his eyes were sincere and assuring. "I love you, don't ever forget that, okay? No matter how stupid I've been, please don't forget that."

"But what about y-your… life?" she said unsurely. "Your… _wife_? Those things you've w-worked so hard for? You can't j-just throw them a-away, Ryoma—"

"I can't, but I would!" he said, making Sakuno jump at his… enthusiasm. "I don't care about those things anymore!" Ryoma gave a laugh, one of pure contentment that she had never heard of. "It's you that I want now! Nothing in this world would ever make me a better man than you and _our_ family! Yes, _our_ family! Everything else doesn't fucking matter!"

"_They'll_ come l-looking for you," Sakuno said, her voice starting to sound grave once more. "I j-just know it—"

Ryoma scoffed, but his smug smirk soon returned. "Then we'll run away! We'll hide!" he answered her confidently. "Where have you always dreamed of living? We'll go there! The British countryside? No problem! Have you ever thought of going back to Tokyo? Or how about something more eccentric, like Puerto Rico? The whole world is too _big_, Sakuno, _don't you see it_?"

After a couple of moments of being stunned, she nodded in understanding as she smiled a little. Finally, she had stopped crying. Her skin glittered with tears as Ryoma placed a small, chaste kiss on her forehead and took her into his arms again.

Then, his thoughts made another unexpected turn.

"You know what," he muttered as they resumed their position, his chin on her head, her nose on his shoulder, their arms around each other. "What don't I make it up to you?" he asked her suggestively as he pulled back a little again.

Sakuno's face flashed with surprise at his question. "What… are you trying to say?" she asked him innocently, her eyes rounded. "Kesuke's upstairs… he might… hear us." She giggled.

Grinning mischievously, he ran his thumb over her lower lip, down her jaw, and on the hollow of her throat. "Do you have a bathroom somewhere?" he inquired her, his voice low and seductive. He felt her shiver in response.

"A bathroom?" she echoed confusedly. "It's in the next room, over there," she said, gesturing to the closed door across the floor.

He chuckled. "That's should do," he said as he lifted up a very surprised Sakuno in his arms, bridal-style.

She rolled her eyes and giggled again.

"A bathroom," she repeated playfully.

"Never thought you'd make a habit of it, Ryoma."

-**oOo**-

Kesuke slowly dashed towards the closed door in their living room, one that concealed their washroom if ever there were guests. His stealth would've made any ninja envious.

Apparently, his mother and his so-called… _idol_ decided to talk somewhere hidden and too… cramped for comfort, thinking that he, Kesuke Ryuuzaki, would be oblivious.

_Ha! Mom probably thinks I'm still four years old or something._

Noiselessly, he put his ear on the keyhole, almost laughing out loud at the sounds that reached his ear. His mother would kill him if she found out what he was up to.

He did his trademark smirk that made him look like his newfound father than anyone else.

"Nice one, Dad," he said to himself as he walked back to his room, hands behind his head, grinning all the way.

-**oOo**-

**FIN**

-**oOo**-

**Author's Note**: Mwahaha. :) Finally, it's done! :D I'd like to thank those who have so loyally reviewed and read my story, those who have supported me despite my long absences and slow updates, those who have inspired me to keep on writing through it all. AND THAT IS YOU, MY LOYAL FAN! :) Thank you so much, because if it weren't for you, well… this story would've been left undone forever. :)

**P.S.**: If you find typos or any major errors in this chapter, please PM me, or leave it in your review if you decide to leave one. It would help me improve my story so much. Thanks. :)

**Don't go just yet!**: There's still an epilogue coming up! Wait for it! :) This is not _the_ end. :)


	24. EPILOGUE: Of Peace And Serenity

RAINDROPS

**RAINDROPS  
**_A Prince of Tennis Fanfic  
_By: weirdcoffeeholic

**Disclaimer**: I don't own _Prince of Tennis_.  
**  
Author's Note**: The epilogue is up! Bwahaha. :)) So, yeah. Uhm… This is kind of bittersweet for me, because this little ficcie has finally come to a close and it also means I have more time to focus on my other story. :)

Saying goodbye to my characters (especially little Kesuke) is very, very depressing, like saying goodbye to a friend, like saying goodbye to my loyal readers, fans, and supporters. sob

And now, for the last time in _Raindrops_, read on. :)

-**oOo**-

**EPILOGUE  
**_Of Peace and Serenity_

_You taught my heart a sense I never knew I had.  
I can forget the times that I was  
Lost and depressed from the awful truth.  
How do you do it?  
You're my heroine…_

_- My Heroine, Silverstein_

-**oOo**-

Detective Inui fumbled around for his glasses and quickly slipped them on, safely propping it high on the bridge of his nose. He then blinked against the early morning sunlight which was cascading like water from the large glass casement across their bed. It was a couple more moments before he found out what had woken him from his deep, unfathomable slumber.

He silently reached out for his persistent, noise-making mobile phone on the nightstand. Completely ignoring the caller ID, he flipped it open and placed the speaker on his ear.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse as he sat up, letting the sheets fall off his naked torso.

"_Hey, Inui,_" the man on the other line said. There was a laugh. "_Oh, sorry, did I wake you? My sincere apologies._"

The detective instantly recognized the voice. Phone calls from this man have been a regular thing ever since _Nitoryuu's_ sudden and unfortunate demise. "Good morning, Fuji," he replied. "No, it's fine, it's fine. Did you need anything?"

"_Yes, actually, I did_," he said politely. Fuji cleared out his throat. "_I know it's kind of early, but Mr. Echizen left me a message an hour ago._"

Inui's senses instinctively heightened with the mention of the name. He ran a hand through his hair."Echizen? You mean the younger one, right?" he inquired. He had been doing business with the former CEO for some time now.

"_Yes, _Ryoma_ Echizen, the youngest son_," answered Fuji cautiously, as though someone might eavesdrop. "_He was asking about the current status of his case. Has everything… fallen into place?_"

It had been almost six years since he and his connections had staged the _setup_. It was odd for the detective to be oblivious as to why the ex-President of _Nitoryuu,_ heir to the Echizen name wanted to be completely erased from the world of business – or simply _the world_. It sounded alien to his ears when he had told them that he was just too "sick" of everything and he wanted "peace and quiet living" for the rest of his life.

Who on earth would let go of his fame and fortune simple because he was tired of it?

Apparently, _the_ Ryoma Echizen could.

Detective Inui didn't buy it at first, thinking it was some sort of bluff. But it was nothing money and a little convincing couldn't handle. It was a time in his life that he was short on cash and Mr. Echizen was just too generous to give him enough for a lifetime of easy living. He simply couldn't resist.

And so _the plan_ was set.

After some deliberations, they were able to stage that the once-famous CEO had passed away when his private jet had ill-fatedly crashed somewhere in the Scandinavian mountains as he was traveling to attend an important meeting with a world-renowned chief executive of tennis.

They had paid the airlines, the press, and even every single person involved and threatened those who dared to speak of the truth. _Nitoryuu_ was then left in ruins, with no one to run it. It was almost hilarious when his very own _wife_ didn't take his death too seriously and remarried soon after. Mrs. Echizen, his mother, grieved deeply but now lived in peace in one of the high-class neighborhoods in the Los Angeles suburbs.

Echizen was now residing in a humble estate somewhere in the British countryside with his family. Inui had secretly thought that his wife was his real reason for letting go of his previous life as a business tycoon, but he didn't dare delve into the private and personal life of Ryoma Echizen. It wasn't any of his business anyway. He just did what he was told to and was paid very highly of it.

No one knew of what really happened except for him, the trustworthy Fuji Syuusuke, and Mr. Echizen himself. It just happened to be sheer coincidence that Mrs. Echizen hired him to be the lead detective on his son's "death."

Everything was almost perfect. All was quite well.

All they needed was a little more time.

"Mrs. Echizen e-mailed me the other night, and she stated that she's planning to withdraw the search-and-rescue team in two months time if they are still unable to recover a body," he said matter-of-factly. "She's also willing to close the case if they fail with their search."

A sigh was audible from the other line. "_Finally, after so long_," Fuji said with relief. "_Mr. Echizen can live in quietly now. How are you and the Mrs.?_"

Inui grinned, pleased at the change of topic. "She doing pretty well," he said. "The baby's due in a month and the food cravings are just _killing_ me. I mean, last night she was asking for _grilled bananas_. Where the hell am I supposed to find those in the middle of the city?"

Fuji chuckled. "_Good luck with that_," he said. "_I'll update you on the case, and you do the same. Go get some sleep._"

"Alright. Thanks, man," said Inui before he hung up and turned to look at the small, sleeping figure curled up beside him. Her long, straight, black hair was trailing graceful lines across the bed and a baby bump was clearly visible beneath the sheets. He took a stray strand between two fingers and placed it behind her ear.

_That has got to be the cutest thing I've seen._

She frowned at little and gave a yawn before her eyes slowly fluttered open. Her charcoal orbs landed on his bespectacled ones as her lips slowly spread into a beautiful, heartbreaking smile.

"G'morning," Nanako whispered before Inui pulled her into his arms for a kiss.

-**oOo**-

_My Freeform Writing Exercise  
__Submitted by Kesuke Echizen  
__Submitted to Mr. Inoue  
__For English 6_

_You know how typical families are made, right? Dad meets Mom, they get married, buy a house, and then have kids. It's the ideal, mediocre way of life, the safest trip down the road of family life – It's how most young people would want their lives to take a turn to._

_But if you're one of those kids who would always want to be different, well, you'd want to be me, and you'd want to have the same family as I do._

_I grew up mostly with my Mom – not that I have much of a choice though. (I'll explain later.) But don't get me wrong! She's the most amazing woman in the entire world. And that's the truth! I'm not just saying it because I want to have extra dessert after dinner…_

_If Wonderwoman was real, she'd be my mother, and that's an understatement. I have no idea how she manages the house, her work at a local newpaper, her bills, and chasing after me every time I ran off somewhere just because I felt like it. I guess multitasking hormones (if there were ever such things) naturally come after having to pop a baby out. I cringe at the thought, thankful that I am of the male specie._

_Although, sometimes, I feel that something about her was missing. I never could quite place what it was. Even when I've lived all my life seeing my mom as a single mom, well… I just can't help but imagine her with another man other than myself. And that's when I started thinking about… _him_._

_I never gave much thought about my father. Not until… I was about seven or eight years old though. There wasn't a single picture of him in the house, in my mom's purse, or even in my head, and that's just a tad disturbing. My mom never, ever mentions him to me, not that I asked though. I just feel like it'd be very awkward if I did. So I avoided the topic like a plague until the thought was buried beneath my schoolwork, writing my butt off, and tennis._

_It's just normal to be curious about someone who made half of who you are, right? There's nothing wrong about it. I just wanted to know what he looks like, what he does for a living, and why… he wasn't there with us._

_I guess some unexpected things in this world are just waiting to happen, carefully planned and executed so that people don't know when to expect them or how._

_Around six years ago, back when my horsepower would make any racecar envious, I broke into this guy's house just because I couldn't help myself. Turns out this guy was a very good tennis player and, being the avid fan of the said sport, I was ecstatic! I took pictures of everything around me – shelves upon shelves of trophies and certificates that I could only dream of winning._

_Just when I thought everything was safe, the owner of the house barged right through the doors and was aiming this caliber handgun at my face! Turns out that he was a pretty cool guy, even if that's hard to believe. He even promised not to tell my mother what I just did, provided that I stopped, ahem, _crying_. (Hey, I was _eight_ freaking years old, okay?)_

_After we made our deal, he agreed to drive me home because I had no idea how to get to my house from his. We hung out, played on my _Wii_, and looked at some pictures of my mom and me. The last part was kind of odd because I could see how his eyes went… somehow, blurry when she saw one photo of my mom, wasted in the hospital after she gave birth to me. And that got me thinking… Hmmm…_

_As if right on cue, mom came bursting through the front door, all frantic and worried because I'd disappeared off for the umpteenth time. It's a very normal sight for me. She gets bothered over the silliest of things._

_When she saw the guy I had brought home with me, the look on her face told me everything. Ha! It was like watching an episode of One Tree Hill._

_Would you believe that the guy whose house I broke into was my dad?_

_And no, not in a stepfather kind of way. He's my real dad, as in the guy my mom dated way back in the olden days when I wasn't even a plan to begin with. No one would believe how they instantly clicked! (Well, instantly, as in after they yelled at each other for a bit about leaving and not knowing what they wanted because they were too young and stuff.)_

_So then I realized where I got all my tennis skills! To be honest, well, my mom sucks at anything that has to do with a racket, a small yellow ball, and making her lower extremities exert too much effort._

_My dad has been the best dad a kid could wish for. And I can see that he's clearly trying to make up for being an absentee father for the first eight years of my life. But personally, I think he's already made up for it just by coming back and making my mom the happiest woman in the world. She's been singing in the shower ever since he's been around! Although I'd prefer it more if my mom didn't sing at all because the racket is always annoying the neighbors._

_Some people might wonder why I accepted him so easily. After all, I think accepting a step dad is a whole lot easier than accepting your real father back especially if he wasn't there most of your life. I was still pretty young then when I found out, but the thing is he admitted that when he was away, all he ever thought about was my mom. Heck, he didn't even have the slightest idea that he had a son, but he braced it like a man would. And that's good enough reason for me. _

_He's been really great, my dad, I mean. Not just at being a father or mowing the lawn every Sunday, but at tennis! I never thought I'd see a Cyclone Smash right before my very eyes! I'm still trying to master it though, and trying to live up to his name and expectations._

_After all, if your dad was your idol, who wouldn't want to?_

Kesuke quickly let his feline eyes skim over the word document one last time before stretching out and cracking his knuckles, beaming proudly as he did so. If he didn't get an A-plus on this one, he'd hang his teacher upside-down and feed him to his father's cat.

It was a little past seven in the morning he noticed after stealing a glance the digital clock on his computer's taskbar. It was a Saturday and he shouldn't be doing school work at all, but there were just so many fun things to get done this weekend that he didn't want anything academic-related to interfere.

He yawned one last time, rubbed his sleepy eyes, and got up to trudge downstairs where breakfast awaited.

-**oOo**-

Ryoma groaned like a five-year-old. "I thought you were making Japanese breakfast today," he told his wife, who was busying herself by the kitchen stove, throwing pancakes in the air. "You said so last night."

"Well… Kesuke said he wanted something different," she said sweetly as she flipped two cakes on an empty plate and smothered it with butter. "Honestly, Ryoma, you can't expect to have it your way every time! He's a sixth-grader and you're old enough to—"

"Don't even go there," he warned a giggling Sakuno, stuffing his mouth with food.

She shook her head in defeat and took a sideward glance at her husband. _You're as stubborn as always… _Her eyes landed on his biceps peeking out from under his sleeve and she couldn't help but grin roguishly. _And still as sexy as always…_

"Morning," came a voice from the doorway, snapping Sakuno out of her trance.

"Good morning, honey," she replied brightly as she eyed Kesuke's disheveled black-green hair, much like his father's. She watched him as he sleepily dragged his feet across the floor, grabbed a pancake from the stack on the countertop and sat down across Ryoma, placing his racket against the stool's leg. "Oh, for goodness' sake, Kesuke, use a _plate_."

"What time's Uncle Ryoga gonna drop by?" asked Kesuke through a full mouth as he examined the worn-out _Fila_ sneakers on his feet.

"He said he'd be here before noon," Ryoma said over the newspaper he was reading. "But knowing _him_, he'd probably arrive in the _after_noon."

Sakuno swiftly finished up the cooking and joined her two men on the table, putting a very high stack of pancakes in the middle, which their son was quickly consuming. "So…" she began, looking at Kesuke with a smile on her round face. "You were up all night again."

"Hn," was the younger man's dismissive reply.

"What've you been up to?" she asked in a very motherly tone as she swallowed her food. _You're turning more and more into your father everyday…_

Kesuke shrugged, clearly manifesting where he got his indifference from. The resemblance was uncanny.

Ryoma took his liberty of looking away from the newsprint to shoot his son an inquiring gaze. "Were you talking to a _girl_?" he asked, not being able to hide the suggestive tone in his voice.

"No, I was _not_ talking to a girl, Dad," he denied, earning a chuckle from the other man and a half-smile from his mother. "Something for English. It's due on Monday and I can't have anything bothering me while I'm practicing with Uncle Ryoga."

"That's surprising, doing homework on a weekend," Sakuno said, trailing off as she started filling the glasses with _Tropicana_. "At least I can see you can _prioritize_ what you need to do before anything else, unlike _some_ people…" She glared at her husband.

"What did I do?" the man said, looking surprised.

"Nothing! And I mean it!" Sakuno retorted not too harshly though. She was using her remember-when-I-told-you-to-fix-this-but-you-didn't tone. "You still haven't replaced the bulb in the living room and the plumbing in the second floor washroom is still not working!" _Men… Why can't they just do what you tell them to?_

Ryoma rolled his yellow eyes. "I'll just hire a plumber and someone to fix the light," he said absentmindedly, focusing on the newspaper again.

"Alright, fine," she snapped. "Just make sure that it's done before your games with your brother. I can never talk properly to you once you start playing and—"

"Sure, beautiful," Ryoma cut her short before he put down his paper, grabbed his wife by her arm and pushed his lips against hers in an earth-shattering kiss.

Sakuno fought hard not to moan, knowing that they were in the kitchen with their_ twelve-year-old _son raising a very peculiar eyebrow at them. But Ryoma was just way too strong to fight off so she simply placed her hand behind his hand and pushed his face harder towards hers. He knew she absolutely loved it when he does his grab-and-kiss thing. It just makes him look so hot and… _God, does he still kiss like he did when we first met… Oh, wow, yes, he does…_

Kesuke made a disgusted face. "Get a room," he told the couple as he downed his orange juice in one gulp and grabbed his racket. "I'll be outside, making rounds on the court."

With that, he sprinted to the backdoor and out, not having the courage to look back.

-**oOo**-

The young man dropped, eagle-spread on the court, his eyes closing just after he had scored his last and winning point against his opponent. Sweat dripped down his face and soaked his ruffled hair. His cap had somehow flown away right before his last swing.

The final score was 7-6.

Kesuke coughed. "Ha!" he managed to say between short and shallow breaths. "I beat you! I _finally_ beat you!" He shakily stood up and swung his racket in the air in sheer delight. "You're not so tough now, huh, old man?"

"Hey, who you calling old?" Ryoga shot back from the other side of the court. Kesuke was surprised to see that he too was out of breath. "That was one game! Just _one game_! Don't get your hopes up too high, _shorty_!"

Ryoma, who was standing at the sidelines with his arms crossed, rolled his eyes. He was also clad in his tennis outfit. "Tch. Don't be a sore loser," he called out, grinning amusedly. "It's not my son's fault he got better. Besides, he's been trained by the _best_."

Kesuke smirked smugly.

"Oh, yeah? By who?" Ryoga retorted, checking his racket strings as he shot his younger brother a death glare.

"Me," Ryoma said without hesitations.

Kesuke grinned at the bickering siblings quarreling like an old married couple. _Talk about brotherly love… Tch._

"You're too full of yourself!" Ryoga yelled immaturely.

"Hn. And you should take your defeat like a forty-year-old," said Ryoma with scorn.

"What did you _say_?"

"Nothing. I just said you haven't lost your touch, _old man_."

"Get on the court, _Chibisuke_."

"_What_ did you call _me_?" Ryoma warned, his voice becoming dangerous.

"You heard what I said. I said get on the court, Chi—"

"_Chibisuke_?" Kesuke blurted out of nowhere. Apparently, the two men had almost forgotten he was still there. They turned to look at him as he was wiping tears from his eyes. His stomach was already hurting from laughing too much. "Are you _serious_, Uncle Ryoga?"

Smirking proudly, Ryoga took an orange from his pocket took a bite from it. "That's what I used to call your dad when I thought he had a shortage on growth hormones."

Kesuke erupted into a fit of laughter.

"Get off the court, Ryoga," he told his older brother, who shrugged and willingly obliged. He then stood by the sidelines just as Sakuno came, a tray with glasses of lemonade in her hands.

The youngest man immediately stopped whatever he was doing and straightened up at his father's words. Even the winds seemed to die down.

"Hey, Ryoga," she greeted her brother-in-law, who gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "I didn't know things were already heating up," she added with a giggle as she eyed Ryoma pacing towards the vacant side of the tennis court.

Ryoga scoffed. "I know," he said as he took a glass from her and downed its contents. "Apparently, your husband doesn't like his childhood nicknames that much."

"Oh… _That_," Sakuno said, realizing and smiling. "That's why he looks pissed."

"Are you up for it, _oyaji_?" Kesuke told his father as he took his white cap from the ground and slipped it on his head. He then resumed his stance across the other man and gripped his racket precisely how he was taught to.

Ryoma grinned. "You've been working on your Japanese, I presume," he said, dribbling the yellow tennis ball. Kesuke found his refuge at the sound it made, it was like music.

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

"Yes, I have, actually, Dad," Kesuke answered courteously. His brown, cat-like eyes narrowing slightly as he anticipated the flight of the ball. He had already dissected the secret to his father's trademark twist serve and he was more than ready to return it. _Give it your best shot, _oyaji_. I'll make you proud._

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

"And what have you learned?" Ryoma inquired in a voice that warned Kesuke of what was to come.

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

Kesuke smirked. He had always wanted to say this line. It was about time he did.

He stood up straight and pointed his racket at his father's face.

"_Mada mada dane._"

-**oOo**-

**FIN**

-**oOo**-

**ABOUT THE AUTHORESS  
**_(Written by a good friend of mine)_

_(Insert my picture here)_

_A writer wannabe and all-around bum, Rose (or weirdcoffeeholic) is an eighteen-year-old physical therapy student who is an aspiring pediatrician, novelist, and Pixar animator. She enjoys sleeping, eating, text messaging, IM-ing, listening to her iPod, reading and writing, sketching, catching movies, playing the piano, Warcraft III and Guitar Hero, hanging out with her boyfriend and friends, and having the time of her life. During her free periods, Rose can usually be found lounging in her dorm, typing away in her laptop or just dozing off till noon._

_Rose has been writing since she was thirteen years old and has published non-fiction articles, essays, and literary selections for her school paper. She also has several unpublished "drawer" short stories and poetry._

_She stays with her parents in the San Fernando Valley in southern California during summer and Christmas breaks. Or whenever she feels like it._

-**oOo**-

**Author's Last Note**: Finally, and it's for real this time, it's DONE! It's actually finished! :) I hope you guys enjoyed reading this, from the prologue to the epilogue! I am so happy to complete this after _ten long months_. A lot has happened, and a lot has changed since I started this, but I'm so happy that the readers and reviewers keep on coming and coming! :) I'd like to thank YOU, especially, because you've stuck with Ryoma, Sakuno, and Kesuke until the very end. And I love you for that! big bear hug

I know this isn't the end, and I know we'll see each other soon, come another fanfic, right? :)

Until then,  
weirdcoffeeholic  
(_stuffing her face with vanilla ice cream_)

**P.S.** If you have questions, complaints, or violent reactions, you can PM me or you can leave it in your review if you decide to post one. :)


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